“Not necessarily,” Beulah said. “No matter what combinations come about, we shall still have an indestructible friendship.”
“Indestructible friendship—shucks,” Gertrude cried. “The boys are going to be married—married—married! Marriage is the one thing that indestructible friendships don’t survive—except as ghosts.”
“It should be Peter who is going to marry Eleanor,” Margaret said. “It’s Peter who has always loved her best. It’s Peter she cares for.”
“As a friend,” Beulah said, “as her dearest friend.”
“Not as a friend,” Margaret answered softly, “she loves him. She has always loved him. It comes early sometimes.”
“I don’t believe it. I simply don’t believe it.”
“I believe it,” Gertrude said. “I hadn’t thought 257 of it before. Of course, it must be Peter who is going to marry her.”
“If it isn’t we’ve succeeded in working out a rather tragic experiment,” Margaret said, “haven’t we?”
“Life is a tragic experiment for any woman,” Gertrude said sententiously.
“Peter doesn’t intend to marry Eleanor,” Beulah persisted. “I happen to know.”