"Do you know," she announced, "that Miss Strong is engaged to Dr. Linton, and they're to be married in the holidays?"
Nora, who was changing a crêpe de chine dress for a serviceable tennis costume, collapsed on to her bed.
"Hold me up!" she murmured dramatically. "Why, I didn't know he was a widower!"
"Of course he is," endorsed Ingred, "and a most uncomfortable one, I should say. I went to his house once for a music lesson, and it looked in a fearful muddle. Good old Bantam! We must give her congrats! She'll soon get things into order there! I believe she adores little Kenneth. I've often seen her taking him about the town. She shall have my blessing, by all means!"
"We might give her something more substantial than congrats and blessings!" suggested Verity. "I vote we get up a subscription in the form for a decent wedding present!"
"Oh yes! Think of Sarkie as Mrs. Linton! They'll be the oddest couple! I wonder if she'll get tired of perpetual music, and if he'll rage round his own drawing-room and ruffle his hair when he feels annoyed, like he does with his pupils!"
"Perhaps she'll break him off bad habits! I could trust her to hold her own."
"Oh, she'll be the gray mare, don't you fear! But honestly I'm glad! She has her points, and I hope she'll be happy."
"I wonder who'll have her form next term?"
"That doesn't concern us, for we shall probably be in the Sixth."