'Well,' Madge confessed, 'he isn't like other men. There's no pretence about him. He makes friends with you at once. And you can't be very formal with any one who is lugging you through the snow.'
'No, of course not,' said Nan gravely. 'I was not saying there could be anything wrong in calling him Frank.'
'Well, the pantomime; did I tell you how good it was? Mr. Roberts says he never saw such beautifully-designed dresses in London; and the music was lovely—oh! if you had heard Cinderella, how she sang, you would have fallen in love with her, Nan. We all did. Then we had ices. There's a song which Cinderella sings Frank promised to get for me; but I can't sing. All I'm good for is to show off Edith.'
'You ought to practise more, dear.'
'But it's no good once you are married. You always drop it. If I have any time I'll take to painting. You see you have no idea, in a house like this, the amount of trouble there is in keeping up a place like Kingscourt.'
'But you know, Madge, Mrs. Holford King is there.'
'She can't be there always; she's very well up in years,' said the practical Madge. 'And you know the whole estate is now definitely settled on Frank—though there are some heavy mortgages. We shan't be able to entertain much for the first few years, I daresay—but we shall always be glad to have you, Nan.'
Nan did not say anything; she turned her face away a little bit.
'Nan,' said her sister, presently, 'didn't Mary and Edith have a notion that Captain King was at one time rather fond of you?'
Nan's face flushed hastily.