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"Oh, Rosalind ... I'm so glad. It was wonderful of you, but more than that ... just now ... I would rather that you gave me something just now than at any other time in all our lives."

She turned round to it, gazing at it, drinking in its beauties.

"It makes me feel safer, your giving me that just now. It makes me feel that perhaps I've done right. It's a sign."

"A sign! Of what?" Rosalind was now watching her sister. "I knew all the time that we were coming home that something had happened to you. What is it? Have we come into money?"

"Yes, in a way." Janet's eyes lingered passionately on her sister's face. "But that's a horrid way to put it. I told Wildherne Poole to-night that I would marry him!"

"Oh!... Oh!"

It was Rosalind's turn. She threw her arms around Janet, kissing her, kissing her, kissing her:

"Oh, oh, oh!... Oh! How lovely! How beautiful! How perfect! I've been longing, been hoping, been aching for it to happen! You darling, you pet, you Perfect! Oh, Mops, you'll be a Duchess—my Mops will be a Duchess. You'll have everything you want and be happy for ever. And I'll be Wildherne's sister—good old Wildherne—and no more of this beastly flat. Oh, Mops! how heavenly!"