"You must let me choose the bridesmaids' dresses, and help to arrange the drawing-room. I should have it green, with white paint; but you must be awfully particular about the shade. I've got a wonderful eye for colour--Fraulein says so. So _that_ was why you never listened when people spoke to you, and kept on smiling in that silly way! I asked mother, but she put me off. Rowena, tell me. What did he say?" "_Dreda_!" Rowena, drawing herself up with a most grown-up access of hauteur, gave it to be understood that such questions were an outrage on good taste, and her younger sister was obliged to turn to subjects less embarrassing and intimate. "Well, how did you feel then, when it was all settled and you had time to think?" "Very happy--utterly happy and contented. There seemed nothing I could wish altered; except, oh, Dreda, I was sorry about the past. I wanted to tell you about that, so that you might be warned in time. Father and mother were so sweet to Guy and me; they never seemed to think of themselves, but only of our happiness; but when I said good-night I saw the tears in mother's eyes, and I said to myself, `You had the chance of helping her when she was in trouble and of showing her what a comfort a daughter could be; but you were cross and selfish, and threw _it_ aside, and now _it_ is too late. It can never, never come back. You have missed your chance.' That thought was like a cloud over my happiness. I had felt so disappointed to miss my season in London, so angry at having to teach Maud, so ill-used at being shut up in the country, that I had no time to be sorry for anyone but myself. I made things _worse_ for mother by moping and looking cross and dull, and I was a Tartar to Maud. Poor old Maud! She was far more patient with me than I was with her; and after all, Dreda, it was here, in the place I hated, living the life I dreaded, that I met Guy, the big, big prize of my life! I feel so much older since I was engaged. One seems to _understand_ everything so differently. And I have thought of you so often, dear, and hoped that you may never lose your chance as I have done mine. Your _home_ chance, I mean--the chance of being a real good daughter to father and mother. Then you can never reproach yourself as I do now." Dreda stared with big, surprised eyes. Well might Rowena say that she was changed! It might have been mother herself who was speaking. Such gravity, such penitence, such humility, were new indeed from the lips of the erstwhile proud and complacent young beauty! Dreda lay awake that night pondering over the great news of the day, with all its consequences to Rowena and herself.