Miss Wentworth looked at her--a cross-examining sort of look--then at Mr. Paxton, then back at the lady.
"Good news? One always does associate good news with Mr. Paxton. The premonition becomes a kind of habit."
The gentleman thus alluded to winced. Miss Strong did not appear to altogether relish the lady's words. She burst out with the news of which she spoke, as if with the intention of preventing a retort coming from Mr. Paxton.
"We are going to be married."
Miss Wentworth displayed a possibly intentional mental opacity.
"Who is going to be married?"
"Charlie! How aggravating you are! Cyril and I, of course."
Miss Wentworth resumed her reading.
"Indeed! Well, it's no affair of mine. Of course, therefore, I should not presume to make any remark. If, however, any one should invite me to comment on the subject, I trust that I shall be at the same time informed as to what is the nature of the comment which I am invited to make."
Miss Strong went and knelt at Miss Wentworth's side, resting her elbows on that lady's knees.