"Frank is at the gate. He has brought a rose which he wishes to give you. Won't you come down?"
"Not to-night, aunt, please. Really and truly I've a wretched headache. Besides, my hair is down, and----"
"Bother!" exclaimed Miss Charlotte. "It wouldn't take you a second to tie a bit of ribbon round it."
"You must really excuse me, aunt, and so must Frank. He can send me the rose through you, if he wishes me to have it."
"That won't be half so nice as giving you it himself."
But Hermia had disappeared.
Miss Charlotte went back, rubbing her nose.
"I suppose there's been a tiff between them," she said to herself. "Well, well! At lover's perjuries they say Jove laughs, and no doubt he does the same at their quarrels."
Frank, with his hands deep in his pockets, was whistling in a minor key when she reached the gate.
He laughed a laugh which was by no means as pleasant as usual, at Aunt Charlotte's lame excuse.