Madge!'

It was almost a cry wrung from the heart. But in an instant she had
controlled herself again. She turned to her sister, and said with
great apparent calmness,

'Surely, dear, you ought to know what to write. These are things that
cannot be advised about. Letters of that kind are secret----'

'Oh, I don't care about that. I think it is stupid,' said Madge at
once. 'There is no use having any pretence about it. And I don't know
in the world what to write about. Look,--I have begun about the
Kenyons' invitation, and asked him whether he'd mind my going. I like
those little dances better than the big balls----'

She held out the letter she had begun. But Nan would not even look at
it.

'It isn't usual, is it, Madge,' she said, hurriedly, 'for a girl who is
engaged to go out to a dance by herself?'

'But we are all going!'

'You know what I mean. It is a compliment you should pay him not to
go.'

'Well,' said Madge somewhat defiantly, 'I don't know about that. One
does as one is done by. And I don't think he'd care if I went and
danced the whole night through--even with Jack Hanbury.'

'Oh, how can you say such a thing!' said her sister, staring at her;
for this was a new development altogether.

But Madge was not to be put down.

'Oh, I am not such a fool. I can see well enough. There isn't much
romance about the whole affair; and that's the short and the long of
it. Of course it's a very good arrangement for both of us, I believe;
and that's what they say now-a-days--marriages are "arranged."'

'I don't know what you mean Madge! You never spoke like that before.'

'Perhaps I was afraid of frightening you; for you have high and mighty
notions of things, dear Nan, for all your mouse-like ways. But don't I
see very well that he is marrying to please his parents; and to settle
down and be the good boy of the family? That's the meaning of the
whole thing----'

'You don't mean to say, Madge,' said the elder sister, though she
hesitated, and seemed to have to force herself to ask the question,
'You don't mean to say you think he does not--love you?'

At this Madge flushed up a little, and said--

'Oh, well, I suppose he does, in a kind of way, though he doesn't take
much trouble about saying it. It isn't of much consequence; we shall
have plenty of time afterwards. Mind, if only Jack Hanbury could get
invited by the Kenyons, and I were to dance two or three times with
him, and F