She shook with fresh laughter. “It is just of that I complain, sir,” she said.
“You can trust me.”
“I can trust Miss Smith,” she retorted, shaking her head. “Her I know, though our acquaintance is of the shortest. Still, I know her from top to toe. You, young gentleman, I don’t know. Mind,” she continued, with good-nature, “I don’t say that you meant any harm when you came to-day. But I’ll wager you thought that you’d see her.”
Vaughan laughed out frankly. Her humour had conquered him. “Well,” he said audaciously, “and am I not to see her?”
Miss Sibson looked at him, and rubbed a little more powder from her nose. “Umph!” she said doubtfully. “If I knew you I’d know what to say to that. A pretty girl, eh?” she added with her head on one side.
He smiled.
“And a good one! And if you were the usher at Mr. Bengough’s I’d ask no more, but I’d send for her. But——”
She stopped. Vaughan said nothing, but a little out of countenance looked at the floor.
“Just so, just so,” Miss Sibson said, as quietly as if he had answered her. “Well, I am afraid I must not send for her.”
He looked at the carpet. “I have seen so little of her,” he said.