“Well, if there is, what of it?”
“Only that Gabrielle went down on her knees on the damp grass, and swore (she swears awfully, you know) that if he married you, she would destroy herself, body and soul!”
“I am sure she is welcome to him if she wants him so very much,” Zai flashes impetuously; “but I must say that if Gabrielle really fancies he is going to be her brother-in-law, she ought to curb her feelings for him!”
Trixy opens her big blue eyes wide with amazement.
“You don’t mean to tell me, Zai, that there is the very least bit of foundation for Gabrielle’s fancies?”
“Yes, I do,” Zai blurts out, “a very great deal of foundation. I have been engaged to Lord Delaval ever since the State Ball, and I suppose I shall marry him some day.”
“And you really accepted him in cold blood, although you have always said you disliked him so?”
Zai reddens to the roots of her chesnut hair.
“Women are allowed to change their minds, I suppose?”
“You didn’t change your mind, Zai. You have only accepted Lord Delaval out of pique. It’s all because that dishonourable fellow, Conway, pitched you over for Crystal Meredyth. Oh! Zai! cannot you arrange to be married the same day as I am? It would make me so much jollier to know I had a fellow-sufferer! It is quite a month to it—lots of time to gallop through the trousseau—and then people won’t say that you only married Lord Delaval when Carl had put a Mrs. Conway between you and him.”