"No, I suppose not," Chilminster admitted grudgingly. "How would this do: 'Miss Urmy and Lord Chilminster wish to contradict their engagement——'"
"But that implies that there was an engagement!"
Chilminster pondered the deduction. "So it does. I see. People would jump to the conclusion that we were in a desperate hurry to alter our minds!"
"And, of course, we haven't."
"Y-es. I don't know how you feel about it, but if there's one thing I dislike it's tittle-tattle about my private affairs."
"Horrid!" shivered Jeannette. "What are we to do?"
Her tone was so hopeless, so full of tears, that it melted Chilminster. Susceptibilities that had been simmering within him for an hour past came unexpectedly to the boil; and as they did so the difficulty vanished.
"Why need we bother at all about it?" he asked impulsively.
For a world of moments, Jeannette stared at him, revolving the question. Then a faint radiance came into her face, and grew and grew until it burned. Jeannette bit her lip. Jeannette looked down.
"What do you mean?" she asked in confusion.