The Italian trip, which had seemed so simple and pleasant when her father mentioned it, now began to take on the appearance of a dark conspiracy. Lita thought that she would far rather give it up than mention it, only she had promised her father that she would speak of it that afternoon so that he might have plenty of time to make his arrangements. He was very particular about special cabins on a special boat. Oh, dear, with her mother's feelings already a little hurt, it wasn't going to be easy! Mrs. Hazlitt herself started conversation.
"And so you had a delightful lunch?" she said, trying to be nice, but also trying to find out what it was her child's father had wanted to discuss, for she was curious by nature.
"Yes, very nice. Pat's going to Italy next summer on business."
"Really?" said her mother, without special interest. "Some people's business does take them to the nicest places."
Lita suddenly wondered how it would work if she forced these insinuations of her parents to their logical conclusions.
"Don't you believe father really has business in Italy?" she inquired mildly.
"Of course he has if he says so. What funny things you say, Lita! Your father is one of the most accurate people I ever knew—if he makes an assertion. Well, if he goes to Italy that will leave us entirely free. I thought perhaps it would amuse you if I took a house at Southampton this summer. Of course, when I was young Newport was the place; but now I'm told the young people prefer—"
"But, mother," said Lita, and she felt just the way she did before she dived into cold water, "he wants to take me with him."
Mrs. Hazlitt merely laughed.