Gwendolen admitted that she had, and then Mrs. Potten waved her hand and was gone.
That morning, when Gwendolen had come down to breakfast, she wondered how she was going to be received, and whether she would have to wait again for recognition as the future Mrs. Middleton. Breakfast had been put half an hour later.
She had found Lady Dashwood and Mrs. Dashwood already at breakfast. The Warden had had breakfast alone a little before eight. Lady Dashwood called to her and, when she came near, kissed her, and said very quietly—
"The Warden has told me."
And then Mrs. Dashwood smiled and stretched out her hand and said: "I have been allowed to hear the news."
And Gwendolen had looked at them both and said: "Thanks ever so much. I can scarcely believe it, only I know it's true!"
However, the glamour of the situation was gone because the Warden's seat was empty. He could be heard in the hall; the taxi could be heard and the door slamming, and he never came in to say "Good-bye"! Still it was all exhilarating and wonderfully full of hope and promise, and mysterious to a degree!
The conversation at breakfast was not about herself, but that did not matter, she was occupied with happy thoughts. Now all this, everything she looked at and everything she happened to touch, was hers. Everything was hers from the silver urn down to the very salt spoons. The cup that Lady Dashwood was just raising to her lips was hers, Gwendolen's.
And now as she walked along Broad Street, after leaving Mrs. Potten, how gay the world seemed—how brilliant! Even the leaden grey sky was joyful! To Gwendolen there was no war, no sorrow, no pain! There was no world beyond, no complexity of moral forces, no great piteous struggle for an ideal, no "Christ that is to be!" She was engaged and was going shopping!
It was, however, a pity that she had only ten shillings. That would not get a really good umbrella. Oh, look at those perfectly ducky gloves in the window they were only eight and elevenpence!