“She loves him, she loves him, ’tis all he can say,
He loves her, he loves for a year and a day.
Pray see how affection has come their direction,
Oh, thrice happy twain to be wedded in May.”
“Hullo!” cried Masterson, astonished, coming off, “you here?”
The question seemed to be one of those not requiring a reply, and Miss Rodgers ignored it.
“I wanted to know whether there was a chance of being able to help,” she said.
“Rather!” he declared readily. “We’ll soon see about that. I’ll go and arrange.”
He went at a good rate; returned with leaden footsteps.
“I’m sorry!” she said, receiving his message.
“If you had only offered earlier,” he remarked apologetically. “You see, I’m not in charge of the affair, or else I’d manage it like a shot. And I thought you said—”
“It occurred to me,” explained Miss Rodgers, her voice faltering slightly, “that I’d like to try. But it doesn’t really matter in the least.”
* * * * *