d fellow!' Then, of course, if I have rice pudding,
it's the duke; or if I order in an ice, it's the vagrant. Once or twice
I've tried cross-questioning, but it's no use. If I ask, `is he a
gentleman, Robert?' he looks at me with his biggest eyes, and asks,
`would I ask any one to meet _you_, who was not?' But, bless him! his
ideas and mine on that point do _not_ agree. So here, my dear, you
behold the novel spectacle of a woman who has only one complaint to make
of her husband, that he is _too_ good! But he loves me, Vanna, more
than ever. We haven't grown a bit stodgy, only just lately I've been so
ill and depressed. It will be better now you are here... Now tell me
about yourself. You've had a sad time, but you don't look sad. You
look happy and well. Vanna! you are blushing. What is it? Tell me.
There is something--I know there is. Tell me at once!"

"Yes, there is something." Vanna braced herself against the chair, a
thrill of nervous foreboding coursing through her veins. She drew off
her left glove, which she had purposely left on during tea, and held out
the hand, on the third finger of which sparkled a large square diamond.
"There is that!"

"Vanna! A ring? On your engagement finger! Who gave you that?"

"Piers Rendall!"

The colour rushed in a crimson flood over Jean's face; her lips parted
in breathless, incredulous surprise.

"_Piers_! Vanna! You _mean_ it? Piers? Piers and you? You are
engaged? When? Where? For how long?"

"At Seacliff. A fortnight ago. But we have loved each other from the
first."

"And you never told me; you never said a word."

"No. I have not seen you; but even if I had I could not have spoken.
Remember how _you_ felt! Could you have discussed Robert with me while
you were waiting? I asked Piers not to announce the engagement until I
had told you. No one has been told so far, except his mother."

"Mrs Rendall? She knows? It is settled then? Really absolutely
settled?"

"Certainly. I told you so. A fortnight ago."

A little chill of offence sounded in Vanna's voice. Jean's
congratulations were a trifle too long delayed; her surprise too blank
to be flattering. "Aren't you going to congratulate me, Jean?"

"But--but--You told me--you said--the doctor said--"

"That I should never marry. Just so! That fact remains. Piers knows;
I did not deceive him; he knew months ago. He came up to interview Dr
Greatman himself. We know that w