Mr. Sharp's eyes opened wider than ever. "I thought she didn't like me," he said, slowly.
"Good gracious!" said Miss Garland. "Whatever could have put such an idea as that into your head? Of course, aunt isn't always going to let uncle see that she agrees with him. Still, as if anybody could help—" she murmured to herself.
"Eh?" said the young man, in a trembling voice.
"Nothing."
Miss Garland walked along with averted face; Mr. Sharp, his pulses bounding, trod on air beside her.
"I thought," he said, at last "I thought that Jack Butler was a favourite of hers?"
"Jack Butler!" said the girl, in tones of scornful surprise. "The idea! How blind men are; you're all alike, I think. You can't see two inches in front of you. She's as pleased as possible that you are coming on Wednesday; and so am—"
Mr. Sharp caught his breath. "Yes?" he murmured.
"Let's go down here," said Miss Garland quickly; "down by the river. And I'll tell you what we want you to do."
She placed her hand lightly on his arm, and Mr. Sharp, with a tremulous smile, obeyed. The smile faded gradually as he listened, and an expression of anxious astonishment took its place. He shook his head as she proceeded, and twice ventured a faint suggestion that she was only speaking in jest. Convinced at last, against his will, he walked on in silent consternation.