As soon as she was alone with Diane, her Irish cousin dropped the little bomb she had up her sleeve.
"I'm going to be married Thursday, Di."
Mrs. Paget embraced her for the tenth time within the hour. She was very fond of Sheba, and she had been on a great strain concerning her safety. That out of her danger had resulted the engagement Diane had hoped for was surplusage of good luck.
"You lucky, sensible girl."
Sheba assented demurely. "I do think I'm sensible as well as lucky. It isn't every girl that knows the right man for her even when he wants her. But I know at last. He's the man for me out of ten million."
"I'm sure of it, dear. Oh, I am so glad." Diane hugged her again. She couldn't help it.
"One gets to know a man pretty well on a trip like that. I wouldn't change mine for any one that was ever made. I like everything about him, Di. I am the happiest girl."
"I'm so glad you see it that way at last." Diane passed to the practical aspect of the situation. "But Thursday. Will that give us time, my dear? And who are you going to have here?"