I suppose he saw I was somewhat determined. "Captain Dillington," he answered in a low tone.
I was thoroughly displeased, and most unreasonably so. Only a few moments previously there was I declaring that the intense friendship of these two young men was something I admired. Now I felt vexed because these boon companions should discuss a girl in whom one of them confessed that he was interested. Men are right when they say one should never expect logic from a woman. I place myself at the head of the unreasonable list.
"You are vexed?" he asked, really troubled.
"Not a bit," promptly. Women cannot reason, but no one can beat them at fibbing. (Fibbing is a polite word for it.)
He seemed relieved. "Do you know, Miss Bouverie," he said as he rose to go, " I can talk to you, as I can to no other girl. That is a positive fact. I don't feel that the instant I leave you, you will run to some feminine bosom and dissect me."
"I shouldn't care enough about you to do that," I said rudely. Could anything have been
