Diana, listening to the light chatter, felt set apart by the tragedy of her own unhappiness. Once she would have enjoyed an escapade like the lunch party; now she was glad that she could go away—and leave it all behind her and perhaps—forget.
"Bobbie is such a funny fellow"—Bettina was still swinging the tinkling rings—"and he's awfully in love with Doris. And Doris worships him, and it makes Sara furious."
"But, my dear, Sara isn't the least bit in love with Bobbie."
"I know, but she thinks Doris is so silly to let Bobbie see—but that's just what Bobbie adores in her. He likes to be worshiped, and he's positively puffed up with pride like a pouter pigeon because he's going to marry Doris."
"Then it's settled?" Diana asked.
"Yes. It seems he proposed on the night of the yacht club dance, and yesterday at lunch Bobbie announced it, and he blushed and Doris blushed—but really it was awfully sweet, Diana—they are so happy."
"At first I thought Bobbie liked Sara," Bettina stated, later.
"Oh, no." Diana laughed. "It's Justin, you know, with Sara."
The flashing rings tinkled, tinkled. Bettina's eyes were on them.
"Oh, are they—engaged?"