"Stephanie took it like an angel," mused his sister.
"Why shouldn't she? If there was anything queer about it, you don't suppose I'd select the St. Regis, do you?"
"Nobody supposed there was anything queer."
"Well, then," he demanded, impatiently, "what's the row?"
"There is no row. Stephanie doesn't make what you call rows. Neither does anybody in your immediate family. I was merely questioning the wisdom of your public appearance—under the circumstances."
"What circumstances?"
His sister looked at him calmly:
"The circumstances of your understanding with Stephanie…. An understanding of years, which, in her mind at least, amounts to a tacit engagement."
"I'm glad you said that," he began, after a moment's steady thinking. "If that is the way that Stephanie and you still regard a college affair—"
"A—what!"