"Then why is it?"
"I think her sweet nature has something to do with it; and, besides, she has been shielded from many bad influences. We send girls to school, and—and—well, Lawrence, we cannot all be angels, any more than men. If girls learn about love, and establishments, and flirtations, and the rest of it, why, they naturally want their share of these good things. Then they get self-conscious."
"What about Jack Dunquerque?" asked Lawrence abruptly. "He has been to me about her."
Agatha blushed as prettily as any self-conscious young girl.
"He loves Phillis," she said; "but Phillis only regards him as a brother."
"Agatha, you are no wiser than little Red Riding Hood. Jack Dunquerque is a wolf."
"I am sure he is a most honourable, good young man."
"As for good, goodness knows. Honourable no doubt, and a wolf. You are a matchmaker, you bad, bad woman. I believe you want him to marry that young Princess over there."
"And what did you tell poor Jack?"
"Told him to wait. Acted the stern guardian. Won't have an engagement. Must let Phillis have her run. Mustn't come here perpetually trying to gobble up my dainty heiress. Think upon that now, Cousin Agatha."