“Got back?—Do you—is there anything you want?”
Teresa sat down on the side of the bed and threw back her cloak. In the plainly furnished bedroom her blue dress became at once a rich and gorgeous garment, the trifling ornament on her neck gleamed with a new splendour; to Mary’s dazzled eyes she appeared a vision of beauty and happiness.
“What should I want? Cocoa? Coffee? You funny old Martha! your thoughts never get away from housekeeping. I don’t want anything; not one single thing in the whole wide world. I’ve got so much already that I can hardly bear it... Mary! I’m engaged. He does care. He asked me to-night.”
“Who?” asked Mary blankly, and Teresa, staring at her in indignation, realised that, incredible as it appeared, this ignorance was real, not feigned. A pricking of curiosity made itself felt; since this most obtuse of sisters had noticed nothing between herself and Dane, it would be interesting to see whom she would select as a possible fiancé. She smiled, and said, “Guess!”
“Mr Hunter,” said Mary promptly.
“Gerald Hunter!” Teresa was transfixed with surprise at the unexpectedness of the reply, for Gerald Hunter, the young partner of the local doctor, had come to the neighbourhood some months later than Dane himself, by which time she had no attention to bestow upon another man. Hunter was a member of the tennis club, he made a welcome addition to local dances and bridge teas; occasionally on Sunday afternoons he had called and stayed to tea. Teresa was aware that he had a dark complexion, a strong, overhand serve, and a dancing step which went well with her own, but beyond these preliminaries her mind had not troubled to go.
“What on earth made you think it was Gerald Hunter?”
“He admires you.”
“Oh, well!” Teresa glanced complacently into the tilted mirror which showed a reflection of flaxen hair, pink cheeks, and rounded shoulders, sufficiently attractive to merit any man’s admiration. The same law of contrast which made the dress appear rich and elaborate came into operation as regards its wearer. The mirror reflected the faces of both sisters, and it was not unnatural that Teresa should feel a thrill of pleasure at her own fair looks. “Oh, well! But that’s different. Lots of people may admire. Guess again, Mary! Somebody far, far more exciting than Mr Hunter.”
But Mary shook her head.