Still--why had he looked so miserable, if he didn't care what I thought,
and was really ready to throw me over at a call from her? The whole
thing began to appear more complicated, more mysterious than I had felt
it to be at first, when I was smarting with my disappointment in Ivor,
and tingling all over with the humiliation he seemed to have put upon
me.
"Oh, to know, to _know_, what he's doing at this minute!" I whispered,
half aloud, because it was comforting in my loneliness to hear the sound
of my own voice. "To _know_ whether I'm doing him the most awful
injustice--or not!"
Just then, at the door between my room and Lisa's, next to mine, came a
tapping, and instantly after the handle was tried. But I had turned the
key, thinking that perhaps this very thing might happen--that Lisa might
wish to come, and not wait till I'd given her permission. She does that
sort of thing sometimes, for she is rather curious and impish (Ivor
calls her "Imp"), and if she thinks people don't want her that is the
very time when she most wants them.
"Oh, Di, do let me in!" she exclaimed.
For a second or two I didn't answer. Never in my life had I liked poor
Lisa less than I'd liked her for the last four and twenty hours, though
I'd told myself over and over again that she meant well, that she was
acting for my good, and that some day I would be grateful instead of
longing to slap her, as I couldn't help doing now.
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