No, she felt small trouble regarding any subject, save her own concerns.
"Oh, dear!" she cried at last. "I'm very unhappy!"
"A pity," observed I, "you're hard to please—so many friends and so few cares, and can't make yourself, content!"
"Nelly, will you keep a secret for me?" she pursued, kneeling down by me, and lifting her winsome eyes to my face with that sort of look which turns off bad temper, even, when one has all the right in the world to indulge it.
"Is it worth keeping?" I inquired less sulkily.
"Yes, and it worries me, and I must let it out! I want to know what I should do—Today, Edgar Linton has asked me to marry him, and I've given him an answer—Now, before I tell you whether it was a consent, or denial—you tell me which it ought to have been."
H 3
