"But I think you work too hard in the house. You don't get out-doors enough."
She laughed a little shy laugh.
"I like working," said she. "I'm not so fond of out-doors as Meg is."
He said no more, and presently I heard the rustle of brown paper. I had noticed when I met him in the hall that he had a small parcel in his hand.
"How did you like London?" asked Joyce. "It must have been very hot there."
"It was," replied he. "I didn't like it at all. I'm heartily glad to get back. But I found a minute to run up to Regent Street to look at those shops you told me of. I bought this. I want your opinion on it."
I wondered what it was. A smothered exclamation came from Joyce.
"You like it," asked he, in a pleased tone.
"Oh yes, I think it's lovely," answered she, "lovely!" I had never known Joyce so enthusiastic over anything.