Going to a drawer that no one could have suspected of being there, she took from it a little diamond star.  Getting delicate but firm hold of the Mechlin at the top of the frock, she popped it in, so that the neck was covered at least an inch higher, and said: 

“Now, ducky, you’re to keep that as a little present.  You’ve no idea how perfectly it suits you just like this.”  And having satisfied for the moment her sense of niceness and that continual itch to part with everything she had, she surveyed her granddaughter, lighted up by that red flower, and said: 

“How sweet you look!”

Nedda, looking down past cheeks colored by pleasure at the new little star on a neck rather browned by her day in the sun, murmured: 

“Oh, Granny! it’s much too lovely!  You mustn’t give it to me!”

These were moments that Frances Freeland loved best in life; and, with the untruthfulness in which she only indulged when she gave things away, or otherwise benefited her neighbors with or without their will, she added:  “It’s quite wasted; I never wear it myself.”  And, seeing Nedda’s smile, for the girl recollected perfectly having admired it during dinner at Uncle John’s, and at Becket itself, she said decisively, “So that’s that!” and settled her down on the sofa.  But just as she was thinking, ’I have the very thing for the dear child’s sunburn,’ Nedda said:  “Granny, dear, I’ve been meaning to tell you—­Derek and I are engaged.”

For the moment Frances Freeland could do nothing but tremulously interlace her fingers.

“Oh, but, darling,” she said very gravely, “have you thought?”

“I think of nothing else, Granny.”

“But has he thought?”

Nedda nodded.

Frances Freeland sat staring straight before her.  Nedda and Derek, Derek and Nedda!  The news was almost unintelligible; those two were still for her barely more than little creatures to be tucked up at night.  Engaged!  Marriage!  Between those who were both as near to her, almost, as her own children had been!  The effort was for the moment quite too much for her, and a sort of pain disturbed her heart.  Then the crowning principle of her existence came a little to her aid.  No use in making a fuss; must put the best face on it, whether it were going to come to anything or not!  And she said: 

“Well, darling, I don’t know, I’m sure.  I dare say it’s very lovely for you.  But do you think you’ve seen enough of him?”

Nedda gave her a swift look, then dropped her lashes, so that her eyes seemed closed.  Snuggling up, she said: 

“No, Granny, I do wish I could see more; if only I could go and stay with them a little!”

And as she planted that dart of suggestion, the gong sounded.