The news of her impending departure was conveyed to Letty one afternoon when the two girls were sitting comfortably over Letty's bedroom fire—for although there was still no love lost between them, they found no difficulty in maintaining a feminine entente cordiale. Letty was surprised and said so.
"Of course," said Ethel, who could not banish her injuries from her mind, "it will be embarrassing to go back. Some malicious people will say that Mr. Romaine has jilted me—but there is not a word of truth in it."
"Certainly not," cried Letty, energetically. "Who on earth would believe that you would marry that old—pachyderm?" Letty hunted around in her mind for an epithet to suit Mr. Romaine, but could think of nothing better than the one she used.
"I 'm afraid plenty of people will believe it," answered Ethel, with a faint smile—and then the womanish incapacity to keep a secret that is not bound by a promise made her tell Letty the very thing she had declared she would not tell her.
"It sounds rather ungrateful of you to talk that way, for Mr. Romaine intends conferring
