Philadelphia parted from him in the hall and ran upstairs to her bedroom. Her mind was in a state of excitement and confusion. She had never had a proposal of marriage before, and she was now thinking less of how she intended to answer Michael than of what she should do immediately and whom she could tell the grand news to. Deciding, as she powdered her nose, that it would be awkward to see Michael again before his departure, which was imminent, and that she must tell Sally first of anybody, she stole downstairs by the back way, got out her little car, and drove over to Mulberrie Farm.
She found Sally wheeling the baby up and down the gravel path. ‘The little monster hasn’t been asleep the whole afternoon,’ she said. ‘No, talking doesn’t keep her awake; in fact, it seems to send her off, on the contrary. Your odious brother is in there, inducing Walter to waste his time and lose his money at bridge. It is so naughty of him. I know he’s not written his weekly article yet, and it ought to have gone off by this post at the latest. I wish the game had never been invented.’
‘Then who’s the fourth?’ asked Philadelphia, who knew that, except during week-ends, when Jerome came down from London, poor Sally was usually dragged in, much against her will, to play.
‘Giles Stanworth, of course, my dear. He’s never out of the house now, you know, night or day. The poor man’s quite batty about Amabelle, and he’s having to earn his keep by learning contract. Walter’s taken a packet off him already, I may say.’
‘Isn’t it funny? I can’t imagine Major Stanworth in love with anybody.’
‘Can’t you just! You wait till tea-time and then watch the way he goes on. It’s pathetic. But the really extraordinary thing is that I believe Amabelle rather fancies him too, I honestly think she does. Yesterday evening –’ Sally broke off. She was a very discreet person where her friends were concerned, and decided that for the present she would keep the doings of yesterday evening to herself. ‘I dare say we shall see the old girl a farmer’s wife yet,’ she added hastily to cover her lapse. ‘What news from Compton Bobbin?’
‘Michael’s motoring back to Lewes after tea.’
‘He is, is he? That’s no great loss anyway. I shouldn’t think anyone will miss him unbearably – I never notice whether he’s about or not myself, do you?’
‘Not much,’ said Philadelphia, rather dashed by this remark. She feared that Sally would be unimpressed by her news. There was a short silence. ‘He proposed to me before he left,’ she said at last.
‘Delphie! You don’t say so? My dear, isn’t that grand. When are you going to announce it? Oh, you lucky girl.’
‘Oh, I haven’t said yes. I mean I haven’t given him any answer yet, you see. I’m to think it over until he comes back.’
‘But of course you’ll accept, won’t you?’
‘I hadn’t thought so. I’m not in love with him.’
‘My darling Delphie, you mustn’t hesitate. Michael is a divine person. We all adore him; he’s quite perfect in every way. Attractive, intelligent, everything you could want in the world. Besides just think of all that money. Why, you could afford to have ten children if you liked.’
‘That would be nice,’ said Philadelphia doubtfully; ‘but you see I’m not in love with him.’
‘Nonsense, of course you are. One couldn’t help being in love with a heavenly person like that if he wanted one to be. Besides, nobody is in love with their husbands before they marry, at least I was, but that’s most exceptional. It’s hardly ever done. You’re not fancying anyone else, by the way, are you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Of course you’re not.’ Sally looked relieved. ‘Well, that’s too lovely, darling, I do congratulate you. I wonder where you’ll be married, Westminster Abbey, perhaps. Shall we go and tell the others? No, no, not unless you like, of course, but I’ll tell Amabelle afterwards as a great secret, can I? And you wouldn’t be an angel, I suppose, and let me sell it to the press (I mean when it’s all quite settled, naturally), because I could get at least a tenner for the news, do let me have it and not Bobby, please. How gorgeous of you, isn’t it? I wonder what sort of ring he’ll be giving you. You are a lucky girl, Delphie, I must say.’
After Sally had been working on her mind in this manner for about half an hour, Philadelphia began to regard herself quite as the future Lady Lewes, doubts and misgivings faded from her mind and she felt already a delightful new sense of her own importance. If Sally, whom she looked up to in every way, thought that it would be all right for her to marry Michael she herself would raise no further objections. Indeed, Sally had done Michael’s own work for him most efficiently, and by the time that they had discussed every aspect of the wedding, from the cheering crowds outside the Abbey to the pattern of night-dress for her trousseau, Philadelphia was feeling quite romantic about him. She had some difficulty at tea-time in keeping the news to herself, and even threw out one or two hints at a mystery to which she alone had a clue, but nobody paid much attention to her. They were all busy watching the latest developments in the situation between Mrs Fortescue and Major Stanworth.
When Philadelphia returned to Compton Bobbin she found a note from Michael on the hall table.
My Dearest Philadelphia,
I couldn’t find you anywhere to say good-bye. However, I
