_Agnes._ Yes, but you were never married.

_Lucy._ No, dear.

_Agnes._ That is what I want to----Why weren't you married? Oh, I know I have no business to ask such a question: it is fearfully rude I know, but I have wondered so often. You are lovely now, and you must have been beautiful when you were a girl.

_Lucy._ No, I wasn't--I was barely pretty.

_Agnes._ I can't believe that.

_Lucy._ And I am not going to accept your description of me now as a true one; although I confess I am vain enough--even in my present old age--to look in the gla.s.s occasionally, and say to myself: "You are better-looking now than you ever were."

_Agnes._ Well, at all events you were always an angel.

_Lucy._ And men don't like angels; besides--I was poor.

_Agnes._ You were not poor when you got Aunt Emily's money.

_Lucy._ No, but then it was too----I mean I then had no wish to marry.

_Agnes._ You mean you determined to sacrifice yourself for us, that is what you mean.

_Lucy._ I must have possessed a very prophetic soul then, or been gifted with second sight, as none of you, except Reginald, were born. But to come back to your friend, Agnes; has she no money?

_Agnes._ No, none.

_Lucy._ Nor he?

_Agnes._ Not a penny.

_Lucy._ And they want to get married?

_Agnes._ Yes.

_Lucy._ And are afraid they haven't enough.

_Agnes._ They certainly haven't.

_Lucy._ Then why don't they apply to some friend or relative who has more than enough; say, to--an aunt, for instance.

_Agnes._ Auntie!

_Lucy._ And what is his name?

_Agnes._ Geo----Mr. Reddell.

_Lucy._ And hers is?

_Agnes._ Oh, I never intended to tell you. I didn't mean to say a word.

_Lucy._ When did it happen?

_Agnes._ Three days ago. That is to say, he proposed to me then, but of course it has been going on for a long time. I could see that he--at least I thought I could see. But I can hardly realise it yet. It seems all so strange. And I _did_ intend telling you, I felt I _must_ tell somebody, although George doesn't want it known yet, because, as I told you, he--and so I haven't said a word to father yet; but I must soon--and you won't say anything, will you? and--and oh, I am silly.

_Lucy._ There, have your cry out, it will do you good. Now tell me about Mr. Reddell. What is he?

_Agnes._ He is a writer--an author. Don't you remember I showed you a story of his a little time ago?

_Lucy._ I thought I knew the name.

_Agnes._ And you said you liked it; I was so pleased.

_Lucy._ Yes, I did. I thought it clever and----

_Agnes._ He _is_ clever; and I do so want you to know him. He wants to know you, too. You will try to like him, won't you, for my sake?

_Lucy._ I have no doubt I shall.

_Agnes._ He is just bringing out a book. Some of the stories have been published before; the one you read was one, and if that proves a success then it will be all right; we shall be able to get married and----

_Lucy._ Wait a minute, Agnes. How long have you known him?

_Agnes._ Over a year--nearly two years.

_Lucy._ And do you really know him well? Are you quite certain you can trust him?

_Agnes._ What a question! How can you doubt it? You wouldn't for a minute if you knew him.

_Lucy._ I ought not to, knowing you, you mean. And supposing this book is a success. May it not spoil him--make him conceited?

_Agnes._ All the better if it does. He is not conceited enough, and so I always tell him.

_Lucy._ But may it not make him worldly? May he not, after a time, regret his proposal to you if he sees a chance of making a more advantageous----

_Agnes._ Impossible. What a dreadful opinion you must have of mankind.

You don't think it really, I know. I have never heard you say or hint anything nasty about anybody before.

_Lucy._ I only do it for your own good, my dear. I once knew a man--just such another as you describe Mr. Reddell to be. He was an author, too, and--and when I knew him his first book was also just about to appear.

He was engaged to be married to--to quite a nice girl too, although she was never so pretty as you are.

_Agnes._ Who is the flatterer now?

_Lucy._ The book was published. It was a great success. He became quite the lion of the season--it is many years ago now. The wedding-day was definitely fixed. Two months before the date he suggested a postponement--for six months.

_Agnes._ How horrible!

_Lucy._ And just about the time originally fixed upon for the wedding she received a letter from him--he was abroad at the time--suggesting that their engagement had better be broken off.

_Agnes._ Oh, the brute! the big brute! But she didn't consent, did she?