When at length Penelope replied, it was with a certain gravity.
"My dear, matrimony is one of the affairs of life in which it is fatal to accept second best. You can do it in hats and frocks—it's merely a matter of appearances—although you'll never get quite the same satisfaction out of them. But you can't do it in boots and shoes. You have to walk in those—and the second best wear out at once. Matrimony is the boots and shoes of life."
"Well, at least it's better to have the second quality—than to go barefoot."
"I don't think so. Nan, do wait a little. Don't, in a fit of angry pique over Maryon Rooke, go and bind yourself irrevocably to someone else."
"Penny, the bluntness of your methods is deplorable. Instead of insinuating that I am accepting Roger as a pis-aller, it would be more seemly if you would congratulate me and—wish me luck."
"I do—oh, I do, Nan. But, my dear—"
"No buts, please. Surely I know my own business best? I assure you,
Roger and I will be a model couple—an example, probably, to you and
Ralph! You'll—you'll say 'yes' to him to-morrow when he comes back
again, won't you, Penny?"
"He isn't coming back to-morrow."
"I think he is." Nan smiled. "You'll say 'yes' then?"
Penelope looked at her very straightly.