"But, my dear, Sara isn't the least bit in love with Bobbie."
"I know, but she thinks Doris is so silly to let Bobbie see--but that's just what Bobbie adores in her. He likes to be worshiped, and he's positively puffed up with pride like a pouter pigeon because he's going to marry Doris."
"Yes. It seems he proposed on the night of the yacht club dance, and yesterday at lunch Bobbie announced it, and he blushed and Doris blushed--but really it was awfully sweet, Diana--they are so happy."
"At first I thought Bobbie liked Sara," Bettina stated, later.
"Oh, no." Diana laughed. "It's Justin, you know, with Sara."
The flashing rings tinkled, tinkled. Bettina's eyes were on them.
"Oh, no; it's just a friendship, I fancy."
So? Other girls were his friends! Bettina's head went up, and she slipped the rings back in their hiding place.
"They've always known each other," Diana explained. "You see Sara was a sharp-tongued little girl, and Justin could get along with her better than the other boys because of his easy-going ways. And he gets along with her now, but usually it is a sort of armed truce."
Bettina felt better, but needing further assurance, she ventured, "I suppose he has a sort of brotherly feeling for her."
It was Sophie who answered that question.
"No, he hasn't. Justin adores the memory of his own little sister. She was a dear child and lame. And she was about as like Sara, I imagine, as a white dove is like a peacock. Justin has often told me that when he marries he wants to find a woman to whom he can tell his dreams as he told them to his little sister--it is perhaps because he has failed to find such a woman that he is unmarried."
It seemed to Bettina, suddenly, that all the stars sang! "Oh, it's such a lovely world"--she was all aglow--"and you've made it lovely for me, Diana, by having me here, and doing wonderful things for me."
"I want you to stay for a long time, dear, until you are married. But you'll forgive me if I go away and leave you alone with Sophie for a while?"
"Yes. I'm not well. This air doesn't agree with--my throat," Diana stammered, not caring to meet the clear eyes.
"Oh, but I'm afraid that I'm terribly in the way," Bettina said distressfully. "You'll want Mrs. Martens to go with you. You mustn't have her stay on my account. I can go back to my rooms with Miss Matthews. Really I can--I shouldn't mind."