"Why, so you are," returned Virginia.
"Wait, dear; let me finish. I've told you my various troubles, and you've told me things, too. Now, suddenly, everything is changed. Why, you even sit in your bedroom, instead of in our sitting-room, or on the balcony with me, as you used. You don't seem to want my society; you make excuses if I suggest going anywhere. You and your brother and cousin are continually getting away by yourselves and talking in whispers. Oh, I'm not hurt. It isn't that. I'm not so thin-skinned and stupid. But I've been thinking that perhaps I'd offended you, or you were simply tired of me, and, being kind-hearted, didn't like to send me about my business. You know, dear, if you would rather have any one else——"
"Oh, Kate, you are stupid!" cried Virginia. "Of course I'm not tired of you. We really have had business—not about the château. I—didn't mean to tell you until things were more settled, but since you've been talking like this, I will. I've discovered lately that I'm tired of the Riviera, heavenly as it is here. We've been a month now——"
"I always told you that Monte Carlo was more amusing, while as for Cannes——"
"But I've seen enough of the Riviera for a while."
"What about your château, then—your château in the olive woods that you so adore?"
"That won't be ready until next winter. There's lots to be done. And—I've set my heart on a yachting trip."
Kate Gardiner's face fell. She was a wretched sailor, and Virginia knew it. Even the crossing from Dover to Calais was torture to her on a calm day.
"A long yachting trip?" she asked, controlling her voice.
"I don't quite know yet. Some weeks, perhaps. The only difficulty is about you."