“Arthur Newcome it is, my dear!” said Hilary tragically; whereupon Raymond instantly dropped his teacup on the grass, and fell heavily on Norah’s shoulders.
“Smelling salts! Brandy! I am going to faint! Oh, my heart!”
But, for once, no one paid any attention. Even Norah sat motionless, forgetting to push him away, forgetting everything but the appalling nature of the news which she had just heard.
“Lettice—is—engaged—to—Arthur Newcome?”
“Lettice—is—engaged—to—Arthur Newcome!”
“But—but—we knew that he admired her in his solemn way, but she never seemed to like him! She used to make fun of him, and imitate the way he talked!”
Raymond sat up and passed in his cup for a fresh supply of tea. What was the good of fainting if nobody took any notice! “I say,” he cried energetically, “fancy Arthur Newcome proposing! I’d give anything if I could have overheard him. ... ‘Miss Bertrand!—Lettice!—may I call you Lettice? Deign, oh deign—’”
“Oh, be quiet, Raymond, and let us hear the letter,” pleaded Norah, who was on the verge of tears with agitation and distress. “I can’t believe it until I hear her own words. Read it, Hilary, from the very beginning.”
Hilary opened out the dainty, scented sheet, and read aloud, with an impressiveness worthy of the occasion:—
“My dearest old Hilary, and Norah, and every one of you,—I have a great piece of news to tell. I am engaged to Arthur Newcome, and he wants to be married some time this autumn. He proposed to me a month ago, on the day of our water party, but father and Miss Carr wished us to wait a month before it was settled, so that I should have time to make up my mind. They think I am so young, but if we wait until September I shall be twenty, and many girls are married at that age. I have a beautiful ring—a big pearl in the centre, and diamonds all round, and Arthur has given me a brooch as well, three dear little diamond swallows—it looks so sweet at my neck! Madge is very pleased, of course, and Mr and Mrs Newcome are very kind. Won’t it be nice when I have a house of my own, and you can come and stay with me? I shall have six bridesmaids—you three, Madge, Edna, and either Mabel Bruce or Monica Bewley. You must think of pretty dresses. I like a white wedding, but it doesn’t show the bride off so well—that’s the great objection. We shall have a great deal to talk about when I come home next month, and I am longing for the time to come. It is so hot and close in town, and Cloudsdale must be looking lovely just now. Father expects to leave on Tuesday. He does not seem very pleased about my engagement. I suppose parents never are! Good-bye, dear, darling girls. I wish I could be with you now.