“I don’t know your discontented men.”
She was told to wait until experience had been broadened by marriage, and rated with prophecies all the way up the stairs. At Mrs Martyn’s door she lingered, and finally entered, dropping into a deep chair near the fire. Blanche dismissed her maid, and stood by the mantelpiece, unfastening her bracelets.
“The house has capabilities,” she said, “and you may make it charming.”
Anne stared.
“My dear, you don’t suppose that I am blind and deaf? Of course, we all know that you can marry Lord Milborough when you please. Why pretend?”
“What do you expect me to say?” said Anne coolly.
“Not the usual stock commonplaces.”
“It is hard to be original when one has nothing to say; harder, perhaps, when one has. I give it up. Commonplace or not, I assure you Lord Milborough has not asked me to marry him, so that I have had no opportunity of—”
“Accepting him?” said Mrs Martyn eagerly.
“Giving him an answer.”