“It does. It would be no great wonder if she proved to be at the bottom of it.”
“Of the postponement, or rupture, or whatever it is?”
Isabel nodded.
“But what shall you do immediately?”
“Nothing. What is there to do? Merely write and give her the permission she asks for.”
“I am really delighted at this!” Mrs. Stratton exclaimed.
“Why should you be delighted? I assure you it is nothing to me.”
“My dear, it is everything—you will tell Mr. Asquith?”
“I suppose so. It will annoy him.”
She reddened, and corrected herself.