“No,” said Jane, from behind the handkerchief.
“But he’s married?”
“Y—yes,” said Jane.
“Oh, Renata!”
Miss Todhunter cast herself upon Jane’s neck and burst into tears. The impact was considerable and her weight no light one.
“Daphne, please—please—Lady Heritage is looking at us. Do sit up. I can’t tell you anything if you cry. There’s really nothing to cry about.”
Daphne sat up again. She also produced a handkerchief, a very large one with “Daphne” embroidered across the corner in coral pink. A terrific blast of white rose emerged with the handkerchief.
“But he was so much in love with you,” she wailed. “I don’t understand it. How could he marry any one else and break your heart!”
“My heart is not broken,” said Jane.
“Then it was your fault, and you’ve broken his, and he’s got married just to show he doesn’t care, like people do in books. I don’t believe you love him a bit.”