“I’m quite sure we shouldn’t,” agreed Virginia promptly. “But I don’t think I’ll trouble you to congratulate me till you see me wearing another solitaire.”
“We’ll hope for the best,” he said cheerfully. “If it is the man I think, he is a better man than I am.”
“Yes, he is,” she nodded, without the least hesitation.
“I hope you will be happy with him.”
“I’m likely to be happy without him.”
“Not unless he is a fool.”
“Or prefers another lady, as you do.”
She settled herself back in the low easy chair, with her hands clasped behind her head.
“And now I’d like to know why you prefer her to me,” she demanded saucily. “Do you think her handsomer?”
He looked her over from the rippling brown hair to the trim suede shoes. “No,” he smiled; “they don’t make them handsomer.”