The two girls shook hands with Mr. Hawkehurst. An indifferent observer might have perceived that the colour faded from the face of one, while a blush mounted to the cheeks of the other. But Valentine did not see the sudden pallor of Diana's face--he had eyes only for Charlotte's blushes. Nor did Charlotte herself perceive the sudden change in her dearest friend's countenance. And that perhaps is the bitterest sting of all. It is not enough that some must weep while others play; the mourners must weep unnoticed, unconsoled; happiness is so apt to be selfish.
Of course the conversation was the general sort of thing under the given circumstances--just a little more inane and disjointed than the ordinary small talk of people who meet each other in their walks abroad.
"How do you do, Mr. Hawkehurst?--Very well, thank you.--Mamma is very well; at least no, not quite well; she has one of her headaches this morning. She is rather subject to headache, you know; and the canaries sing so loud. Don't the canaries sing abominably loud, Diana?--loudly they would have made me say at Hyde Lodge; but it is only awfully clever people who know when to use adverbs."
And Miss Halliday having said all this in a hurried and indeed almost breathless manner, stopped suddenly, blushing more deeply than at first, and painfully aware of her blushes. She looked imploringly at Diana; but Diana would not come to the rescue; and this morning Mr. Hawkehurst seemed as a man struck with sudden dumbness.
There followed presently a little discussion of the weather. Miss Halliday was possessed by the conviction that there would be rain--possibly not immediate rain, but before the afternoon inevitable rain. Valentine thought not; was, indeed, positively certain there would be no rain; had a vague idea that the wind was in the north; and quoted a dreary Joe-Millerism to prove the impossibility of rain while the wind came from that quarter. Miss Halliday and Mr. Hawkehurst held very firmly to their several opinions, and the argument was almost a quarrel--one of those little playful quarrels which form some of the most delicious phases of a flirtation. "I would not mind wagering a fortune--if I had one--on the certainty of rain," cried Charlotte with kindling eyes.