"But nothing happened. Surely, if it had been as we thought they would have got engaged then, or before."
"Perhaps he was waiting until he was quite certain, and this has happened since—her falling in love with that other man. I shan't congratulate her. I think she has behaved very badly. Poor old Daddy! It's frightfully rough luck on him."
"He doesn't want anything said about it, though. I wish he hadn't gone away alone. I'm glad he's going to take Barbara away when he comes back."
"I wish I knew exactly what had happened."
"Perhaps Aunt Mary will have heard something. We shall see her to-day. She will certainly have something to say about it."
They lunched with Lady Grafton, and she had a good deal to say about it. The announcement of the engagement had appeared in the 'Morning Post' that morning, and had taken her by surprise, though she would not admit quite how much it had taken her by surprise.
"He's been dancing after her," she said; "but nobody thought she would accept him. You know I blame you two girls more than anybody."
"Of course you do, darling," said Beatrix. "But we should like to know why, all the same."
"You've stuck up your noses at it. Poor dear George, like most men of his age who are in love, is sensitive to ridicule. He never could bring himself up to the point of proposing because he was afraid that he'd look like a fool. That party at the Abbey was the greatest possible mistake. I said so at the time."