Mr. Witt's Widow: A Frivolous Tale

“Hardly, dear. Besides, we are not on speaking terms. But Gerald and Mr. Myles both said so.”

“Gerald and Mr. Myles!” said Laura.

“Please, don’t talk about it,” interposed Isabel. “What has happened made no difference.”

“Why, Isabel, you couldn’t have him after – ”

“No,” said Isabel; “but perhaps, Maud, I shouldn’t have had him before.”

“Of course you wouldn’t, dear. You saw his true character.”

“You never actually refused him, did you?” inquired Laura.

“No, not exactly.”

“Then what did you say?”

“What did I say?”

“Yes, when he asked you, you know,” said Laura, with a little smile.

Isabel looked at her suspiciously. “He never did actually ask me,” she said, with dignity.

“Oh! I thought you implied – ”

“But, of course, she knew he wanted to,” Maud put in. “Didn’t you, dear?”

“Well, I thought so,” said Isabel, modestly.

“Yes, I know you thought so,” said Laura. “Indeed, everybody saw that. Was it very hard to prevent him?”

Isabel’s colour rose. “I don’t know what you mean, Laura,” she said.

Laura smiled with an unpleasantness that was quite a victory over nature. “Men sometimes fancy,” she remarked, “that girls are rather in a hurry to think they want to propose.”

“Laura!” exclaimed Maud.

“They even say that the wish is father to the thought,” continued Laura, still smiling, but now a little tremulously.

Isabel grew more flushed. “I don’t understand you. One would think you meant that I had run after him.”

Laura remained silent.

“Everybody knows he was in love with Isabel for years,” said Maud, indignantly.

“He was very patient,” said Laura.

Isabel rose. “I shall not stay here to be insulted. It’s quite obvious, Laura, why you say such things.”

“I don’t say anything. Only – ”

“Well?”

“The next time, you might mention that among the reasons why you refused Mr. Neston was, that he never asked you.”

“I see what it is,” said Isabel. “Don’t you, Maud?”

“Yes,” said Maud.

“What is it?” demanded Laura.

“Oh, nothing. Only, I hope – I wish you joy of him.”

“If you don’t mind a slanderer,” added Maud.

“It’s not true!” said Laura. “How dare you say it?”

“Take care, dear, that he doesn’t fancy you’re in a hurry – What was your phrase?” said Isabel.

“It’s perfectly shameful,” said Maud.

“I don’t choose to hear a friend run down for nothing,” declared Laura.

“A friend? How very chivalrous you are! Come, Maud dear.”

“Good-bye, Laura,” said Maud. “I’m sure you’ll be sorry when you come to think.”

“No, I shan’t. I – ”

“There!” said Isabel. “I do not care to be insulted any more.”

The two visitors swept out, and Laura was left alone. Whereupon she began to cry. “I do hate that sort of vulgarity,” said she, mopping her eyes. “I don’t believe he ever thought – ”

Mrs. Pocklington entered in urbane majesty. “Well, is Isabel pleased with her little man?” she asked. “Why, child, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” said Laura.

“You’re crying.”

“No, I’m not. Those girls have been horrid.”

“What about?”

“Oh, the engagement, and – ”

“And what?”

“And poor Mr. Neston – George Neston.”