” “Don’t use such a word, my dear young lady,” Mr. Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. A paralyzing horror was upon her. Disappointment flickered in Gerald’s chest, and he did not hesitate to speak his mind, unable to help a reproachful note. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. This time she feinted as his point came up to deflect her own, and disengaging, passed under and cut at his cheek. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent.
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