"Isn't she lovely?"
"That's scarcely the word I should have applied to her. I should have said she was a handful."
"If that's all you can say then you don't know much about her. I say she's lovely, because I know all about her, and I know she's lovely. But--what did you say your name was?"
"Frazer; Eric Frazer." Presently she shook her head. "What," he inquired, "are you doing that for?"
"I don't remember it; nor one in the least like, and I should have done if she had mentioned it."
"If who had mentioned what?"
"You see, Frances and I were tremendous friends; we had no secrets from each other. She used to tell me about everyone she knew; hes and shes; their names, you know, and all about them. And she used to make a list of their names, on a sheet of paper; so that she might be able to check them, and find out if anyone had been left out; and I don't believe she ever so much as even breathed your name, Eric Frazer; or I feel sure I should remember."
"Such an omission on Miss Vernon's part was unkind; it shows how little I was in her thoughts. I gather from what you say, Miss Gilbert, that you have a large number of friends."
"I!" The girl's eyes were suddenly opened wide. "Why, I haven't a friend in the whole world, except Frances, whom I may never see again; and, perhaps, Sister Celestine; who, I daresay, never wants to see me again--at the convent they found it so hard to get money from father. I don't believe they'd have let Mr Emmett take me away if it hadn't been that he paid all that father owed. Whatever made you think I'd lots of friends?"
"Then, if you haven't, you might give me a trial. It seems to me that, at this particular moment, a friend's an article you're rather in want of."