Daphne turned to look at Astoria, and she smirked when she saw the blush on her cheeks. She knew that her sister, blushed often, so she wasn't sure if it was because she actually did fancy him and didn't want to tell her yet, or because of how forward she had just been. Daphne didn't ask, though. As much as she loved knowing what was going on in Story's pretty little head, she was one of the only people Daphne allowed to have some sense of privacy. She knew she would tell her eventually, anyway.
"Why is he lonely?" she asked, her need for gossip kicking in. "Did he tell you?" Daphne knew what it was like to be lonely. Yes, she tried to spend as much of her time around people as she could, but when she went to sleep at night, she was alone in her bed. And in Daphne's mind, that was the most painful kind of lonely of all. Oh, how she wanted a husband! Perhaps she would meet a nice Frenchman while they were in Paris? Ah, well. She wouldn't think about that. Not right then, anyway.