'
'It is odd. I felt that myself. And when I tell you what I have
come about you will think it more odd. I know I can trust you with
a secret.'
'That depends, Dolly.'
'What I mean is, I know you are good-natured. There are ever so
many fellows that are one's most intimate friends that would say
anything on earth they could that was ill-natured.'
'I hope they are not my friends.'
'Oh yes they are. Think of Glasslough, or Popplecourt, or Hindes!
If they knew anything about you that you didn't want to have
known,--about a young lady or anything of that kind,--don't you
think they'd tell everybody?'
'A man can't tell anything he doesn't know.'
'That's true. I had thought of that myself. But then there's a
particular reason for my telling you this. It is about a young
lady! You won't tell; will you?'
'No, I won't. But I can't see why on earth you should come to me.
You are ever so many years older than I am.'
'I had thought of that too. But you are just the person I must
tell. I want you to help me.'
These last words were said almost in a whisper, and Dolly as he
said them had drawn nearer to his friend.
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