Mittie wore her prettiest expression. She dropped her hat into the boat, and he took her parasol, holding out a hand to help, as she evidently meant to occupy her seat without delay.
"YOUR SISTER IS COMING?" HE SAID.
"Your Sister is Coming?"
"Your sister is coming?" he said.
"She doesn't like to leave Grannie. So you'll have to do with me alone," smiled Mittie. "Such a pity, this splendid day! I did my best to persuade her—but she wouldn't be persuaded."
There was an abrupt pause. Even Mittie's self-complacency could not veil from her his changed face, his blank disappointment.
In that moment she very fully realised the truth that Joan, and not herself, was the one really wanted. But she smiled on resolutely, careless of what Fred might think about Joan's motives, and bent on making a good impression.
"It's the first time I've been to your house—oh, for months and months! I'm so looking forward to a whole day there. And being rowed down the river is so awfully delightful. I did try my hardest to get Joan to come, too; but she simply wouldn't, and she asked me to explain."