paused for a moment, then, in quieter tones, continued: “ Joan, it is strange what fools most of them make of themselves over that man. You don ’ t; you never have. I wonder why? ”
Joan laughed. “ I quite like him. I think he is awfully attractive and a marvellous surgeon. I don ’ t behave like a silly schoolgirl because ... well, because I think there are other men just as nice! Come on, pass me another frock, ” she ended, with an abrupt change of subject.
Mary placed a linen dress i n her friend ’ s hands, but she was not to be so easily deterred. “ What do you mean by that exactly? ... Why, you ’ ve gone quite pink! ” she exclaimed, laughing. “ I do believe you ’ re blushing. ” She leaned down and drew her friend round to face her. “ Tell me, Joan, who is the special man who is just as nice? ”
“ Let me go; I ’ ll never finish this packing for you, ” Joan threatened. “ Heaps of men I know are nice; I didn ’ t mean anyone in particular. ”
“ You fibber . ” Despite Joan ’ s efforts, Mary refused to release her gr as p. “ Confess! I won ’ t let you go until you do, ” she insisted laughingly.
“ I thought you knew ...” As Mary shook her head, Joan continued: “ Don ’ t misunderstand me. I ’ ve told you I don ’ t get mad crazes for people, but if I did feel that way, it wouldn ’ t be about Sir Richard. ”
Mary released her friend and seated herself on a chair in a listening attitude. “ Then who would it be? ”
“ Don ’ t you really know? I ’ ve thought sometimes that you guessed. Dr. Mayton. I think he ’ s worth a dozen of their divine Dickie. ”
“ Noel! ... Good heavens! ” Mary stared at her friend, momentarily at a loss for words. “ But I never thought ... I had no idea ...”
“ I ’ ve explained ... I never gush ... In any case, I know he ’ s a friend of yours ... not just a hospital friendship, either. I know he ’ s more than that to you; at least, you are to him, ” Joan amended. She looked up at her companion, searching her face as she continued speaking. “ Mary, I ’ ve sometimes wondered ... you don ’ t feel the same way about him as he does about you, do you? ”
Mary lowered her eyes. “ No, of course not. We ’ re just friends, that ’ s all. ”
Completely unaware of her friend ’ s embarrassment, Joan Howe continued speaking. “ Of course, I hardly know him. I ’ ve been out with you both ... Y o u remember last year you asked me to join you ... It was in the summer when you were on holiday he took me out once alone. He gave me a marvellous evening, ” she added reminiscently.
“ I ’ m glad. I ’ ll drop him a line to remind him that you ’ ll be lonely while I ’ m away this time ... He must take you out again. ” Mary rose to her feet and crossed quickly to the table. Picking up the letter, so recently written, she tore it slowly into pieces. “ I had to write this letter again, anyway ... I had explained myself so badly ... I ’ ll write and tell him to fix an evening for you, ” Mary explained as she noticed her friend ’ s surprise at her action.
“ Why tear it up? You could have added a bit. ” Joan rose from her kneeling position and stood behind her friend. “ Mary ... you don ’ t m ind ... and you ’ ll never breathe a word ... about what I ’ ve told you, I mean? ”
“ Naturally I won ’ t . And why should I mind? ” Mary assured her. She prayed that her assurance had carried conviction, and turned away to hide the misery in her eyes. Joan must never know, never guess, what that letter had contained.
Joan slipped her arm through her friend ’ s. “ Mary, you ’ re an angel! I ’ ve sometimes wondered if you ’ d mind about my liking Noel ... I ’ ve been afraid to tell you. ” Joan laughed. “ I might have guessed! Instead of minding you ’ re going to do your very best to let me see more of him! ” She gave her friend an impetuous hug. “ Thank you, darling.
Joan laughed. “ I quite like him. I think he is awfully attractive and a marvellous surgeon. I don ’ t behave like a silly schoolgirl because ... well, because I think there are other men just as nice! Come on, pass me another frock, ” she ended, with an abrupt change of subject.
Mary placed a linen dress i n her friend ’ s hands, but she was not to be so easily deterred. “ What do you mean by that exactly? ... Why, you ’ ve gone quite pink! ” she exclaimed, laughing. “ I do believe you ’ re blushing. ” She leaned down and drew her friend round to face her. “ Tell me, Joan, who is the special man who is just as nice? ”
“ Let me go; I ’ ll never finish this packing for you, ” Joan threatened. “ Heaps of men I know are nice; I didn ’ t mean anyone in particular. ”
“ You fibber . ” Despite Joan ’ s efforts, Mary refused to release her gr as p. “ Confess! I won ’ t let you go until you do, ” she insisted laughingly.
“ I thought you knew ...” As Mary shook her head, Joan continued: “ Don ’ t misunderstand me. I ’ ve told you I don ’ t get mad crazes for people, but if I did feel that way, it wouldn ’ t be about Sir Richard. ”
Mary released her friend and seated herself on a chair in a listening attitude. “ Then who would it be? ”
“ Don ’ t you really know? I ’ ve thought sometimes that you guessed. Dr. Mayton. I think he ’ s worth a dozen of their divine Dickie. ”
“ Noel! ... Good heavens! ” Mary stared at her friend, momentarily at a loss for words. “ But I never thought ... I had no idea ...”
“ I ’ ve explained ... I never gush ... In any case, I know he ’ s a friend of yours ... not just a hospital friendship, either. I know he ’ s more than that to you; at least, you are to him, ” Joan amended. She looked up at her companion, searching her face as she continued speaking. “ Mary, I ’ ve sometimes wondered ... you don ’ t feel the same way about him as he does about you, do you? ”
Mary lowered her eyes. “ No, of course not. We ’ re just friends, that ’ s all. ”
Completely unaware of her friend ’ s embarrassment, Joan Howe continued speaking. “ Of course, I hardly know him. I ’ ve been out with you both ... Y o u remember last year you asked me to join you ... It was in the summer when you were on holiday he took me out once alone. He gave me a marvellous evening, ” she added reminiscently.
“ I ’ m glad. I ’ ll drop him a line to remind him that you ’ ll be lonely while I ’ m away this time ... He must take you out again. ” Mary rose to her feet and crossed quickly to the table. Picking up the letter, so recently written, she tore it slowly into pieces. “ I had to write this letter again, anyway ... I had explained myself so badly ... I ’ ll write and tell him to fix an evening for you, ” Mary explained as she noticed her friend ’ s surprise at her action.
“ Why tear it up? You could have added a bit. ” Joan rose from her kneeling position and stood behind her friend. “ Mary ... you don ’ t m ind ... and you ’ ll never breathe a word ... about what I ’ ve told you, I mean? ”
“ Naturally I won ’ t . And why should I mind? ” Mary assured her. She prayed that her assurance had carried conviction, and turned away to hide the misery in her eyes. Joan must never know, never guess, what that letter had contained.
Joan slipped her arm through her friend ’ s. “ Mary, you ’ re an angel! I ’ ve sometimes wondered if you ’ d mind about my liking Noel ... I ’ ve been afraid to tell you. ” Joan laughed. “ I might have guessed! Instead of minding you ’ re going to do your very best to let me see more of him! ” She gave her friend an impetuous hug. “ Thank you, darling.
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