"You don't say it's Lettice! Hallo! This time in the morning! You are an early bird! Well, how do you do?"
He evidently expected no particular demonstration of feeling, and his careless kiss administered a chill. Still there was brotherly interest in his survey of her.
"It is such a surprise. Why did you not write? How did you manage to come?"
"No use in writing. I say, what have you been crying about?"
"Oh, it doesn't matter. I was only—silly."
"Like the little goose you always were."
"I was disappointed—not getting any letter from you. It's my birthday."
"Yes. Many happy returns. I've meant to come for some time, and this was as good a day as any. Not to sleep—no, not I. I shall go back by an evening train. I've half a mind not to see the Bryants at all, if I—I mean, now I have seen you. What's the good?"
"Felix, you must. He is so kind to me. You must thank him. If he were my own father, he could not do more."
"And she?"