The thing that happened began with Richenda Earle. Some weeks before, Louie had had a letter from Richenda forwarded from Sutherland Place, which she had neglected to answer; and Richenda had apparently written again, this time to her sister. Louie now gathered that Mrs. Leggat had kept the reason for her disappearance from Mr. Weston, but not from Richenda. By way of Richenda and Mr. Weston it had now reached the Business School. A hastily scrawled letter from Kitty Windus informed Louie of this. Kitty wanted to come and see her.
Well, there was no reason why Kitty should not come. Louie wrote and told her so.
She came on a Saturday afternoon. It was not urgently necessary that Louie should have received her in bed, but the recollection of the spinster's peering eyes held some obscure prompting. Moreover, to receive Kitty in bed would be an intimation that the call must not be a long one, and she had arranged its duration with Miss Dot Mayville.
"Miss Windus," Miss Dot announced, and Kitty entered.
She had brought Louie a bunch of violets; that was the first of several new amenities Louie noticed in her manner. Louie discouraged the second amenity, which was a shy motion as if to embrace her. And the third showed when, after a few minutes in which Kitty's fluttered spirits had become a little calmer (she was not the one to turn her back on people in trouble, she had said, let others hold up their heads as they pleased), she wistfully took Louie's hand on the coverlet. She had cried over Louie a little. Her eyes were still wet.
"Of course—but I don't know whether you've heard—I might have been just like everybody else, only something else has made an awful difference too," she said, her eyes downcast.
"Oh? What else?" Louie asked a little offhandedly. She had not wanted to be wept over.
"Oh, then you haven't heard.... I'm engaged. I've been engaged nearly two months."
"Really? Then I must congratulate you. Is it a secret who to?"
"No," said Kitty. "It's to Mr. Jeffries."