Peggy, wondering when and where any stiffness would intrude into Connie's friendship, agreed that riding was an admirable path to intimacy.
'And then he's so much connected in business with papa; that naturally brings him here a lot.'
'I don't suppose he minds,' suggested Peggy, playing the game.
'He says he doesn't,' laughed Connie, poking out her foot and regarding it with coy intensity, as she had seen ladies do on the stage when the topic of their affections happened to be touched upon.
Understanding the accepted significance, if not the inherent propriety, of the attitude, Peggy ventured on a nod which intimated her appreciation of the position.
'Oh, it's all nonsense anyhow, isn't it, Miss Ryle? What I say is, it's just a bit of fun.' In this declaration Connie did less than justice to herself. It was that, but it was something much more.
Peggy was vastly amused, and saw no reason to be more delicate or reticent than the lady principally concerned.
'May we congratulate you yet?'
'Gracious, no, Miss Ryle! How you do get on!'
At this Peggy saw fair excuse for laughter, and made up her arrears heartily. Connie was not at all displeased. Peggy 'got on' further, chaffing Connie on her conquest and professing all proper admiration for the victim.