'Yes . . . there is, but . . .'
'Of course there is. Now, Betty, tell me all about it.'
'Oh, I couldn't,' said Betty, gazing into the fire. 'You see it isn't quite settled yet.'
'Then tell me what you're going to settle. First of all, who is it?'
'Nobody you know. I met him at . . . well he followed me in Finsbury Circus one evening. . . .'
'Oh, naughty, naughty! You're getting on, Betty.'
'You mustn't think I encouraged him,' said Betty with a tinge of asperity. 'I'm not that sort.' She stopped, remembering Victoria's profession, then, inconsequently: 'You see, he wouldn't go away and . . . now. . . .'
'And he was rather nice, wasn't he?'
'Well, rather.' A faint and very sweet smile came over Betty's face. Victoria felt a little strangle in her throat. She too had thought her bold partner at the regimental dance at Lympton rather nice. Poor old Dick.
'Then he got out of me about the P. R. R.,' Betty went on more confidently. 'And then, would you believe it, he came to lunch every day! Not that he was accustomed to lunch at places like that,' she added complacently.