"Dear me!" says Esther, with a crestfallen sigh. "And I had been looking forward to it so much!"
He sits down on a low chair beside her sofa. "Looking forward to a bazaar!" he echoes, with a half-incredulous smile. "My dear Miss Craven, what a revelation as to your past history that one sentence is! Why, I should as soon think of looking forward to a visit to the dentist, or to my mother's funeral!"
"No one expects to enjoy it; it is a necessary evil," says Miss Blessington, with resignation.
"Like dancing with married men, or going to church?"
"Conny! Conny!" shouts Sir Thomas from somewhere in the unseen distance.
Conny rises, though reluctantly, and leaves the other two tête-à-tête.
"Miss Blessington is going to have a stall," says Esther, presently, for the sake of saying something, catching a little nervously at the first remark that occurred to her.
"Yes."
"And I am to help her."
"Yes."