At last they were alone in the bedroom. Minnie had just locked the door when Frances sprang at her, caught her in a tight embrace, and whispered:
“Minnie!”
“What?” asked Minnie sharply.
“Minnie!... I’m engaged!”
Minnie gasped.
“Why, Frankie!” she cried. “How on earth!...”
“Oh, darling, I’ve been longing to tell you!... I’m so happy! If you only knew him, Minnie! You couldn’t help liking him. There’s something about him.... He’s so dear and boyish——”
“Who is he?” Minnie asked.
“He’s an Englishman. Very nice family, and all that. The nicest manners. And I consider him really handsome. Just the type we’ve always liked, Minnie.”
It occurred to Frances that Minnie was not so enthusiastic as the occasion warranted. She felt a sudden fear that Minnie was jealous, felt herself neglected.