"You'd better ask her yourself. Perhaps you can get some sense out of her—since you appear to be the chief stumbling-block."
"I?"
"Yes. I saw Ralph before he went away. He seemed very down on his luck, poor dear! He's been trying to persuade Penelope to say yes and to fix an early date for their wedding, as he's got the offer of a very good short tour in America—really thumping fees—and he won't accept it unless she'll marry him first and go with him."
"Well, I don't see how that's my fault."
"In a way it is. The only reason Penelope gave him as to why she wouldn't consent was that she will never marry as long as you need her."
Nan digested this information in silence. Then she said quietly:
"If that's all, you can take off your sackcloth and ashes and phone
Ralph at his hotel to come back here to-morrow. I'll—I'll talk to
Penelope to-night."
Kitty stared at her in surprise.
"You seem very sure of the effect of your persuasions," she answered dubiously.
"I am. Quite sure. It won't take me five minutes to convince Penelope that there is no need for her to remain in a state of single blessedness on my account. And now, I'm going out of doors to have a smoke all by myself. You were quite right"—smiling briefly—"when you said I should feel everything more to-day than yesterday. Do keep people away from me, there's a good soul."