Sally laughed again suddenly. "No, there wasn't. Everett never looked at me."
"But, Sally," Henrietta persisted, "it isn't so now. Does he—you aren't engaged, are you, Sally?" she asked softly, glancing up timidly under her long lashes.
Sally seemed to be in haste to reply. "Oh, no," she said. "Oh, no. I am not likely to be. I suppose you mean Everett."
"Yes, I did," returned Henrietta. She showed some surprise. "Why? Is there anybody else?"
"No, oh, no," Sally answered more hastily than before. "There isn't. As far as I can see, I am scheduled to teach for the rest of my life."
"Are you quite sure, Sally?" Henrietta urged. "Isn't there anybody? Not even somebody that you wish—"
Sally was getting rather red. "No, no, Henrietta," she said, interrupting. "Now that's enough about my affairs of the heart. It's a little embarrassing to be questioned so closely, dear."
"I'm sure I beg your pardon, Sally," cried Henrietta impulsively. "I didn't mean to be. Now, I am just dying to be questioned closely. Try me."
"I don't know what to ask," said Sally, smiling. "I would if I did."
Henrietta sighed. "You're very disappointing, Sally. If you were really interested you would know." She sighed again. "But, anyway, you'll be what I want you to be at my wedding, won't you?"