"I think I can't go to drive to-day. I—I thought perhaps we could play tennis instead."
"Oh, Miss Edith! After your promise? I am not going to let you off so easily. No, indeed; we are going to drive. It is a fine day, and I've engaged a gay little mare at the livery-stable."
Edith remonstrated feebly, but Bronson would not listen.
When she and Gertrude were alone she said:
"Why don't you go too? We might all go to Blue Hill."
"No indeed!" laughed Gertrude. "I am not going a step. I haven't been asked, and I wouldn't intrude."
"But it would be such fun," persisted Edith; "you know we used to go in a crowd, and walk up the hill."
"Times have changed," returned her friend, pointedly. "This time you are asked to go alone. If it were any one but you, Edith, I should be wildly jealous."
Edith blushed and looked conscious, and afterwards when Bronson renewed his pleading she consented to go with him. Unless they chanced to meet some of the family, why need she tell that she had been to drive at all?
Thus she deceived herself into thinking that she was doing no wrong, and gave herself up to the enjoyment of the moment.