“You’ll see!” he prophesied accurately.

She began to read, laughing at some of the items as she went along; then suddenly she became rigid, holding the small journal before her in a transfixed hand.

“Oh!” she cried. “Oh!”

“That’s—­that’s what—­I meant,” Noble explained.

Julia’s eyes grew dangerous.  “The little fiends!” she cried.  “Oh, really, this is a long-suffering family, but it’s time these outrages were stopped!”

She jumped up.  “Isn’t it frightful?” she demanded of Noble.

“Yes, it is,” he said, with a dismal fervour.  “Nobody knows that better than I do, Julia!”

“I mean this!” she cried, extending the Oriole toward him with a vigorous gesture.  “I mean this dreadful story about poor Mr. Crum!”

“But it’s true,” he said.

“Noble Dill!”

“Julia?”

“Do you dare to say you believed it?”

He sprang up.  “It isn’t true?”

“Not one word of it!  I told you Mr. Crum is only twenty-six.  He hasn’t been out of college more than three or four years, and it’s the most terrible slander to say he’s ever been married at all!”

Noble dropped back into his chair of misery.  “I thought you meant it wasn’t true.”

“I’ve just told you there isn’t one word of tr——­”

“But you’re—­engaged,” Noble gulped.  “You’re engaged to him, Julia!”

She appeared not to hear this.  “I suppose it can be lived down,” she said.  “To think of Uncle Joseph putting such a thing into the hands of those awful children!”

“But, Julia, you’re eng——­”

“Noble!” she said sharply.

“Well, you are eng——­”

Julia drew herself up.  “Different people mean different things by that word,” she said with severity, like an annoyed school-teacher.  “There are any number of shades of meaning to words; and if I used the word you mention, in writing home to the family, I may have used a certain shade and they may have thought I intended another.”

“But, Julia——­”

“Mr. Crum is a charming young man,” she continued with the same primness.  “I liked him very much indeed.  I liked him very, very much.  I liked him very, very——­”

“I understand,” he interrupted.  “Don’t say it any more, Julia.”

“No; you don’t understand!  At first I liked him very much—­in fact, I still do, of course—­I’m sure he’s one of the best and most attractive young men in the world.  I think he’s a man any girl ought to be happy with, if he were only to be considered by himself.  I don’t deny that.  I liked him very much indeed, and I don’t deny that for several days after he—­after he proposed to me—­I don’t deny I thought something serious might come of it.  But at that time, Noble, I hadn’t—­hadn’t really thought of what it meant to give up living here at home, with all the family and everything—­and friends—­friends like you, Noble.  I hadn’t thought what it would mean to me to give all this up.  And besides, there was something very important.  At the time I wrote that letter mentioning poor Mr. Crum to the family, Noble, I hadn’t—­I hadn’t——­” She paused, visibly in some distress.  “I hadn’t——­”