Mrs. Greaves addressed herself to Mrs. Munro. "Now, Ellen, may I go into the kitchen and put on my own shoes and stockings? They must have been dry long ago. I only trust your maid has not allowed them to scorch."
The two ladies left the room, and Trixie looked at herself appreciatively in the mirror over the mantelpiece and hummed a gay tune.
"Gommie is a cat," she said carelessly. "She thinks I am a sort of she-devil, and I am sure she was longing to tell you dreadful things about my frivolity, and want of heart, and my general wickedness."
There was no response, and she turned to see George Coventry regarding her with serious eyes.
"Perhaps she would also tell you that I was hard, and cold, and intolerant," he said brusquely.
"Well, if you are I shall come home again, and enjoy myself as a grass widow," she laughed.
"Trixie!" he protested; and her youth, her sweetness, her bright eyes overcame him, rendered him weak and fatuous. He caught her in his arms and kissed her passionately; she submitted with a sort of gracious triumph. He released her reluctantly. "I wonder," he said, "if I am doing wrong in taking you? My life is half over, yours is only just beginning. You have no experience, and mine has been a hard one. Do you know, child, that I swore I would never believe in a woman again? And then you came and conquered, and made me feel I had everything left to live for if you would be my wife. Trixie"--his voice held an agony of doubt--"you won't fail me? You will keep alive my new-found faith? You will be a true and loving wife?"
She quailed a little at his vehemence, as though she had a sudden glimpse of something far more deep and serious than had yet come within her knowledge.
"I will try," she faltered, half-frightened. Then her gay spirit reasserted itself. "But you are not going to expect me to stay at home and mend your socks and sew on your buttons the whole time, are you? I may go to dances, and join in theatricals, and ride, and play tennis, and enjoy myself now and then, mayn't I?" She looked at him mischievously.
He sighed rather hopelessly. "I'm too old for you, Trixie. I don't dance, and I can't act, though I certainly can ride and play tennis. I must confess I prefer staying at home to going out in the evening, though it will be a different matter now, altogether, going out with you."