'Of course not,' said my brother, 'that would be different. She'd have taken him already then for better or for worse.'
'She doesn't wait to take him till she goes to church in orange blossom and satin, she does that when she first tells him she loves him, doesn't she?'
'Of course,' said Monica. 'Are you absolutely sure he loves me, Ross, and that there is no other woman?'
'I did once hear him say he'd rather have the Gidger.'
'Oh, Ross, the comfort of you!' said poor Monica, and laughed and cried together. 'I must go to him,' she added, and as she did this 'splendid thing' the last vestige of 'littleness' dropped away from her.
'And I will take you,' answered Ross, 'but first you must have food and coffee. Had any lunch?'
'No,' said Monica, 'and I can't eat till it's settled.'
'Get your hat on, Meg, and let me deal with this rebellious woman, I'm getting such a dab at it.'
She laughed and let him put her in a comfy chair, and ate the food he brought, while he sat beside her and told her all the things he could remember that Charlie had ever said about her, and her eyes were shining when I came down ready for the drive. Yes, the 'Hon. Miss Cunningham' looked a different woman; more exclusive, if you know how that looks.
'Oh, Meg,' she said, 'I feel heaps better,' and then shamelessly, 'If Charlie throws me over I shall marry Ross.'