“I need sympathy myself to-night,” she said. “We received a letter after dinner that brought bad news for us. We must go home at once.”
“Bad news!” exclaimed Carlton, with much concern. “From home?”
“Yes, from home,” she replied; “but there is nothing wrong there; it is only bad news for us. My sister has decided to be married in June instead of July, and that cuts us out of a month on the Continent. That’s all. We shall have to leave immediately—to-morrow. It seems that Mr. Abbey is able to go away sooner than he had hoped, and they are to be married on the first.”
“Mr. Abbey!” exclaimed Carlton, catching at the name. “But your sister isn’t going to marry him, is she?”
Miss Morris turned her head in some surprise. “Yes—why not?” she said.
“But I say!” cried Carlton, “I thought—your aunt told me that you were going to marry Abbey; she told me so that day on the steamer when he came to see you off.”
“I marry him—my aunt told you—impossible!” said Miss Morris, smiling. “She probably said that ‘her niece’ was going to marry him; she meant my sister. They had been engaged some time.”
“Then who are you going to marry?” stammered Carlton.
“I am not going to marry any one,” said Miss Morris.
Carlton stared at her blankly in amazement. “Well, that’s most absurd!” he exclaimed.