'Well, Betty,' said her hostess suddenly, 'when's the wedding?' 'Oh, Vic, I didn't say . . . how can you . . .' Her face had blushed a tell-tale red. 'You didn't say,' laughed Victoria, 'of course you didn't say, shy bird! But surely you don't think I don't know. You've met somebody in the City and you're frightfully in love with him. Now, honest, is there anybody?' 'Yes . . . there is, but . . .' 'Of course there is. Now, Betty, tell me all about it.' 'Oh, I couldn't,' said Betty, gazing into the fire. 'You see it isn't quite settled yet.' 'Then tell me what you're going to settle. First of all, who is it?' 'Nobody you know. I met him at . . . well he followed me in Finsbury Circus one evening. . . .' 'Oh, naughty, naughty! You're getting on, Betty.' 'You mustn't think I encouraged him,' said Betty with a tinge of asperity. 'I'm not that sort.' She stopped, remembering Victoria's profession, then, inconsequently: 'You see, he wouldn't go away and . . . now. . . .' 'And he was rather nice, wasn't he?' 'Well, rather.' A faint and very sweet smile came over Betty's face. Victoria felt a little strangle in her throat. She too had thought her bold partner at the regimental dance at Lympton rather nice. Poor old Dick. 'Then he got out of me about the P. R. R.,' Betty went on more confidently. 'And then, would you believe it, he came to lunch every day! Not that he was accustomed to lunch at places like that,' she added complacently. 'Oh, a swell?' said Victoria. 'No, I don't say that. He used to go to the Lethes, before they shut up. He lives in the West End too, in Notting Hill, you know.' 'Dear, dear, you're flying high, Betty. But tell me, what is he like? and what does he do? and is he very handsome?' 'Oh, he's awfully handsome, Vic. Tall you know and very, very dark; he's so gentlemanly too, looks like the young man in _First Words of Love_. It's a lovely picture, isn't it?' 'Yes, lovely,' said Victoria summarily. 'But tell me more about him.' 'He's twenty-eight. He works in the City. He's a ledger clerk at Anderson and Dromo's. If he gets a rise this Christmas, he . . . well, he says . . .' 'He says he'll marry you.' 'Yes.' Betty hung her head, then raised it quickly. 'Oh, Vic, I can't believe it. It's too good to be true. I love him so dreadfully . . . I just can't wait for one o'clock. He didn't come on Wednesday. I thought he'd forgotten me and I was going off my head. But it was all right, they'd kept him in over something.' 'Poor little girl,' said Victoria gently. 'It's hard isn't it, but good too.' 'Good! Vic, when he kisses me I feel as if I were going to faint. He's strong, you see. And when he puts his arms round me I feel like a mouse in a trap . . . but I don't want to get away: I want it to go on for ever, just like that.' She paused for a moment as if listening to the first words of love. Then her mind took a practical turn.