"Where have you been, Edith?" she said. "They're all clamouring for you. Mother is sitting in the summer-house wondering why anybody wants to play tennis. She says none of them will ever be as good as Cracklin, and he's a cad."
"Grantie," said Edith, "Dodo's engaged."
"Oh, dear, yes," said Miss Grantham. "I knew she would be. How delightful. Jack's got his reward at last. May I tell everyone? How funny that she should marry a Lord Chesterford twice. It was so convenient that the first one shouldn't have had any brothers, and Dodo won't have to change her visiting cards; or have new handkerchiefs or anything. What a contrast, though!"
"No, it's private at present," said Edith. "Dodo has just written to me; she told me I might tell you. Do you altogether like it?"
"Of course I do," said Miss Grantham. "Only I should like to marry Jack myself. I wonder if he asked Dodo, or if Dodo asked him."
"I suppose it was inevitable," said Edith. "Dodo says that Chesterford's last words to her were that she should marry Jack."
"That was so sweet of him," murmured Miss Grantham. "He was very sweet and dear and remembering, wasn't he?"
Edith was still grave and doubtful.
"I'm sure there was nearly a crash," she said. "Do you remember the Brettons' ball? Chesterford didn't like that, and they quarrelled, I know, next morning."
"Oh, how interesting," said Miss Grantham. "But Dodo was quite right to go, I think. She was dreadfully bored, and she will not stand being bored. She might have done something much worse."