"You and Roger have been having a very long confab," remarked Isobel, looking up from the jumper she was knitting. "What does it portend?"
Her sallow, nimble fingers never paused in their work. The soft, even click of the needles went on unbrokenly.
"Nothing immediate," answered Nan. "He wants me to settle the date of our wedding, that's all."
The clicking ceased abruptly.
"And when is it to be?" Isobel's attention seemed entirely concentrated upon a dropped stitch.
"Some time in April. It will have to depend a little on Mrs. Seymour's plans. She wants me to be married from her house, just as Penelope was."
Lady Gertrude was busily engaged upon the making of a utilitarian flannel petticoat for one of her protégées in the village. She anchored her needle carefully in the material before she laid it aside.
"Do you mean from her house in town?" she asked.
"Why, yes, I suppose so." Nan looked faintly puzzled.
"Then I hope you will re-arrange matters."