Meanwhile, upstairs in the sitting-room, Conny was delivering herself of her opinion that they had all behaved shamefully to Aunt Caroline. "She had a right to know. And it is very good of her to trouble about such a set of ungrateful girls at all," she cried. "You can't expect every one besides yourselves to look upon Frank Jermyn as dropped from heaven." "Aunt Caroline is cumulative--not to be judged at a sitting," pleaded Gertrude. Very soon Constance herself rose to go. "I shall not see you again unless you come down to us; which, I suppose, you won't," she said. "We go to Eastbourne on Friday; and afterwards to Homburg. Mama is going to write and invite you in due form." "It is very kind of Mrs. Devonshire. Lucy and I cannot possibly leave home, but Phyllis would like to go," answered Gertrude; a remark of which Phyllis herself took no notice. "Well then, good-bye. Lucy, Fred sends his congratulations. Phyllis, my dear, we shall meet ere long. Fanny, I shall look out for your wedding in the paper. Come on, Gerty, and let a fellow out!" On the other side of the door her manner changed suddenly. "Do come home and dine, Gerty." "I can't, Con, possibly." "Gerty, of course I can guess about Fred. I knew it was no good, but I can't help being sorry." "It was out of the question, poor boy." "Oh, don't pity him too much. He'll get over it soon enough. His is not a complaint that lasts." There was a significant emphasis on the last words, that did not escape Gertrude. "You look better, Conny, than when I last saw you." "Oh, I'm all right. There's nothing the matter with me but too many parties." "I think dancing has agreed with you." "I don't know about dancing. I have taken to sitting in conservatories under pink lamps. That is better sport, and far more becoming to the complexion." "I shouldn't play that game, Conny. It never ends well." "Indeed it does. Often in St. George's, Hanover Square. You are shocked, but I do not contemplate matrimony just at present. But I see you agree with _Chastelard_-- "'I do not like this manner of a dance; This game of two and two; it were much better To mix between the dances, than to sit, Each lady out of earshot with her friend.'" "Have you been taking to literature?" "Yes; to the modern poets and the French novelists particularly. When next you hear of me, I shall have taken probably to slumming; shall have found peace in bearing jellies to aged paupers. Then you might write a moral tale about me." Gertrude sighed, as the door closed on Constance. It was the Devonshires who, throughout their troubles, had shown them the most unwavering kindness; and on the Devonshires, it seemed, they were doomed to bring misfortune.