“Who?” Pen’s head was jerked round. “Who will you never see again?”
“Oh, please do not ask me! I did not mean to mention his name!”
“Are you—” Pen stopped, rather white of face, and started again: “Are you betrothed to Piers Luttrell?”
“You know him!” Miss Daubenay clasped ecstatic hands.
“Yes,” said Pen, feeling as though the pit of her stomach had suddenly vanished. “Yes, I know him.”
“Then you will help me!”
Miss Creed’s clear blue eyes met Miss Daubenay’s swimming brown ones. Miss Creed drew a long breath. “Is—is Piers indeed in love with you?” she asked incredulously.
Miss Daubenay bridled. “You need not sound so surprised! We have been plighted for a whole year! Why do you look so oddly?”
“I beg your pardon,” apologized Pen. “But how he must have changed! It is very awkward!”
“Why?” asked Lydia, staring.