Lady Aviolet laughed gently. “How very nice of you to be so much interested in them!”
Her voice held the intonation that generally accompanies the words, “How very foolish of you ...” but she looked at Rose with her usual bleakly kind obtuseness of gaze.
“I believe, since you want so much to hear details, that they settled it in the train, last Saturday. Ford had been to see a man on business, and on his way back he met Diana at the Junction. She was travelling home—with her maid, of course—from some visit or other, and they got into the same train.”
“Is she—are they—does she—are they very much in love?” Rose blurted out, intensely curious.
“They’ve known one another all their lives, you know. Ford has always been very devoted to her, and I’m sure she is to him. Diana is such a thoroughly nice girl.”
“Has he been in love with her long?”
“I really couldn’t tell you, my dear. One always felt that if Ford did ask any girl to marry him, it would probably be Diana. But two or three men have very much wanted to marry her, and I’ve sometimes been afraid that Ford might delay too long.”
“Have they really?”
Rose’s voice held all the astonishment that she invariably experienced at each allusion to the attractions of Miss Grierson-Amberly.
“She could have made a most excellent marriage the year she came out. But her mother, of course, would never have dreamt of persuading her in any way, though I believe she was disappointed at the time. But they’re delighted about this, now, and so all is very well.”