"Ellen," she said, after she had drunk her tea—"one reason I'm so upset is that I've just broken off my marriage with my intended."
"Joanna!"
Ellen put down her cup and stared at her. In her anxiety to hide her emotion, Joanna had spoken more in anger than in sorrow, so her sister's pity was checked.
"What ever made you do that!"
"We found we didn't suit."
"Well, my dear, I must say the difference in your age made me rather anxious. Thirteen years on the woman's side is rather a lot, you know. But I knew you'd always liked boys, so I hoped for the best."
"Well, it's all over now."
"Poor old Joanna, it must have been dreadful for you—on the top of your failure in the courts, too; but I'm sure you were wise to break it off. Only the most absolute certainty could have justified such a marriage."
She smiled to herself. When she said "absolute certainty" she was thinking of Tip.
"Well, I've got a bit of a headache," said Joanna rising—"I think I'll go and have a lay down."