“Yes, but he has already broken loose, while you—”
“So did I—nearly! Had it not been for you, you know well enough I might have run away with that dreadful Englishman at Newport! For I adored him—I did! I did! and you know it. And look at my endless escapes from compromising myself! Can you count them?—all those indiscretions when mere living seemed to intoxicate me that first winter—and only my uncle and you to break me in!”
“In other words,” said Mrs. Ferrall slowly, “you don't think Mr. Siward is getting what is known as a square deal?”
“No, I don't. Major Belwether has already hinted—no, not even that—but has somehow managed to dampen my pleasure in Mr. Siward.”
Mrs. Ferrall considered the girl beside her—now very lovely and flushed in her suppressed excitement.
“After all,” she said, “you are going to marry somebody else. So why become quite so animated about a man you may never again see?”
“I shall see him if I desire to!”
“Oh!”
“I am not taking the black veil, am I?” asked the girl hotly.
“Only the wedding veil, dear. But after all your husband ought to have something to suggest concerning a common visiting list—”