“My chance is gone. They’re to be married in a fortnight. I had a letter to say so this morning.”

Dora turned suddenly to him.

“Oh, but it’s too extraordinary,” she cried. “So had I!”

“What?”

“Why, a letter to say they were to be married in a fortnight.”

“Nonsense!”

“Yes. Mr. Ellerton—who—who is your friend?”

“Her name’s Mary Travers.”

“And who is she going—to marry?”

“Ah! She hasn’t told me that.”