“Yes,” said the American, without enthusiasm; “but then I still care, and Helen knows I care.”
“Doesn’t she ever fancy that you might care for some one else? You have a lot of friends, you know.”
“Yes, but she knows they are just that—friends,” said the American.
Miss Cavendish stood up to go, and arranged her veil before the mirror above the fireplace.
“I come here very often to tea,” she said.
“It’s very kind of you,” said Carroll. He was at the open window, looking down into the street for a cab.
“Well, no one knows I am engaged to Reggie,” continued Miss Cavendish, “except you and Reggie, and he isn’t so sure. SHE doesn’t know it.”
“Well?” said Carroll.
Miss Cavendish smiled a mischievous kindly smile at him from the mirror.
“Well?” she repeated, mockingly. Carroll stared at her and laughed. After a pause he said: “It’s like a plot in a comedy. But I’m afraid I’m too serious for play-acting.”