Nancy shook her head despairingly.
"What's the good of telling me that, George? You know I can't make up my mind; I never could. Someone's always had to do it for me. Let's just go on as we are for a bit. It's awfully nice loving each other, and no one knowing anything about it, and perhaps you'll save father's life or something."
"If that's all it depends on," said Leslie ironically, "we may as well begin printing the invitations."
"Now, you're not to stick out your chin like that and look cross," said Nancy. "It's just as tiresome for me as it is for you; and you ought to be nice and sympathetic, instead of being grumpy."
"I'm not a bit cross really," said Leslie. "I should as soon think of getting cross with a flower as with you."
Nancy brightened up wonderfully.
"Oh, that's sweet of you, George. I love people to say things like that to me, and you so seldom do it." Then she paused, and looked at him with mischievous, pleading eyes. "And you will come and drive us on Wednesday, won't you, dear?" she added.
The corners of Leslie's mouth twitched.
"Nancy," he said, "you're as wicked as you're beautiful."
"Oh, dear," said Nancy, "that's the second in two minutes."