"That mightn't last when you were married," said Valentia consolingly.
"Perhaps he might not be so bad after we were once married.... But I shouldn't like to risk it. And the engagement! Oh! I couldn't simply stand the engagement! Just think of the ring, and the sentiment, and the fuss, and the letters! Oh, he'd enjoy it all so much! Oh, it would make me simply sick to see how pleased he'd be!"
"I know that feeling," said Valentia sympathetically, nodding her head.
"Oh, and don't you see how he'd think he was engaged to a well-brought-up, nice English girl who was a relation of Harry's, and knew all the right people, and all that sort of thing? And he'd take a big house—he's hinted this to me already—most likely in Park Lane—anyhow, something just like a millionaire in a book. It's all so dull, and cut-and-dried."
"Some of these cut-and-dried obvious things turn out quite jolly afterwards. It's the uncomfortable, romantic things that are more often failures. And you know, Daphne, you do like pretty things and clothes, and going everywhere, and—not only that, he's really such a dear, and a good sort, and so good-looking! And you'd put me into a very awkward position with Harry if you refuse him. But, of course, darling, you must do as you like."
"Well, then, Valentia, don't let me refuse him. I don't want to. Don't let it come to that. I'm sure I should loathe to hear him propose."
"Why?"
"It would make me sick."
"What can I tell Harry really as your reason for not being able to stand Van?"
"I'm sure I don't know!"