garden and in the dahlia walk solemnly demanded the reason of it all.
Mrs. Frederick indulged in a laugh which put the mettle of her festal brown silk seams to the test.
"My dear Cecilia, it was so amusing," she said, a little patronizingly.
"But why!" cried Mrs. George, resenting the patronage and the mystery. "What was so dreadful in what I said? Or so funny? And who is this Romney Penhallow who mustn't be spoken to?"
"Oh, Romney is one of the Charlottetown Penhallows," explained Mrs. Frederick. "He is a lawyer there. He is a first cousin of Lucinda's and a second of George's—or is he? Oh, bother! You must go to Uncle John's if you want the genealogy. I'm in a chronic muddle concerning Penhallow relationship. And, as for Romney, of course you can speak to him about anything you like except Lucinda. Oh, you innocent! To ask him if he didn't think Lucinda was looking well! And right before her, too! Of course he thought you did it on purpose to tease him. That was what made him so savage and sarcastic."
"But why?" persisted Mrs. George, sticking tenaciously to her point.
"Hasn't George told you?"
