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Wyndham.
"I want so much to talk to you," Joe began, when they were alone.
"Yes, dear?" said Sybil half interrogatively, as they moved along. "We can
talk here charmingly, unless Mr. Vancouver comes after us again. But you
do skate beautifully, you know. I had no idea you could."
"Oh, I told you I could do everything," said Joe, with some pride. "Where
_did_ you get that beautiful fur, my dear? It is magnificent. You are
just like the Snow Angel now."
"In Russia. Everybody wears white fur there, you know. We were in St.
Petersburg some time."
"I know. We cannot get it in England. If one could I would have told
Ronald to bring me some when he comes."
"Who is Ronald?" asked Sybil innocently.
"Oh, he is the dearest boy," said Joe, with a little sigh, "but I do so
wish he were not coming!"
"Because he has not got the white fur?" suggested Sybil.
"Oh no! But because"--Joe lowered her voice and spoke demurely, at the
same time linking her arm more closely in Sybil's. "You see, dear, he
wants to marry me, and I am afraid he is coming to say so.


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