"What about Sir Denis, Nan?"
Rosanne turned a thoughtful gaze on her, and this time a little of her old mockery glimmered in it.
"He still survives."
"Don't be silly, darling. Len heard this morning at the club—what everyone is saying—you know—how much he is in love with you, and that he's sure to propose soon."
"He proposed last night, Kit. We are engaged."
Kitty sat up with dancing eyes.
"And you've been keeping it back all this time! Oh, Rosanne, how could you? Such a darling man! You are lucky. What a lovely bride you'll make! You must put it off until I can come. Shall you be married in bright colours, as you always said you would? And you'll be Lady Harlenden!"
Kitty was not a snob, but titles didn't often come her way and she couldn't help taking a whole-hearted delight in the fact that Rosanne would have one.
"I shall never be Lady Harlenden. I don't mean to marry him, Kit."
"Don't mean to marry him!" Kitty Drummund's lips fell apart and all the dancing excitement went out of her eyes. She sat and stared. At last she said wonderingly but with conviction: