It would be even worse, since it was no confidence of hers, but a matter lying between Lloyd and her father alone.
She sat tapping the rim of the ink-bottle with her pen as she recalled the conversation.

"Yes, it's all right for you to go, Lloyd, but wait a moment.

Have you my silver yardstick with you to-night, dear ?" "Why of co'se, Papa Jack.

What makes you ask such a question ?" "Well," he answered, "there is so much weaving going on around you lately, and weddings are apt to put all sorts of notions into a girl's head.

I just wanted to remind you that only village lads and shepherd boys are in sight, probably not even a knight, and the mantle must be worthy of a prince's wearing, you know." Then Lloyd pretended to be hurt, and Betty could tell from her voice just how she lifted her head with an air of injured dignity.
"Remembah I gave you my promise, suh, the promise of a Lloyd.