The Marquis received the information with no signs of particular interest. Letitia stretched out for a cigarette, lit it and looked a little appealingly at her father.
"Dad," she said, "I've made an awful idiot of myself."
"In what direction?" the Marquis enquired sympathetically. "If it is a financial matter, I am fortunately--"
"Worse!" Letitia groaned. "I've promised to marry Charlie Grantham."
The Marquis stretched out his long, elegant hand and patted his daughter's.
"But, my dear child," he said, "surely that was inevitable, was it not? I have looked upon it as almost certain to happen some day."
"Well, I'm rather glad you take it like that," Letitia remarked. "Now I come to think of it, I suppose I should have had to say 'yes' sometime or another."
"Gone home in a huff, because I wouldn't let him kiss me in the car or bring him in with me."
"Either course would surely have been usual," the Marquis ventured.
"Perhaps, but I feel unusual," Letitia declared. "It isn't that I mind marrying Charlie, but I know I shall detest being married to him."
"One must remember, dear," her father went on soothingly, "that with us, marriage is scarcely a subject for neurotic ecstasies or most unwholesome hysterics. Your position imposes upon you the necessity of an alliance with some house of kindred associations. The choice, therefore, is not a large one, and you are spared the very undignified competitive considerations which attach themselves to people when it does not matter whom on earth they marry. The Dukedom of Grantham is unfortunately not an ancient one, nor was it conferred upon such illustrious stock as the Marquisate of Mandeleys. However, the Granthams have their place amongst us, and I imagine that the alliance will generally be considered satisfactory."
"Oh, I hope so," Letitia replied, without enthusiasm. "I only hope I shall find it satisfactory. I didn't mean to say 'yes' for at least another year."
"Then what, my dear child," he asked, "hastened your decision?"
Letitia became suddenly more serious. She bit her lip and frowned distinctly into the fire. At that moment she was furious with a thought.
"I can't tell you, dad," she confessed. "I'd hate to tell you. I'd hate to put it in plain words, even to myself."