It was all settled in a few minutes the next morning. The Paris appointment was definitely confirmed: he was to leave immediately. He hastened to Elizabeth to tell her the wonderful news. It never occurred to him that she could be otherwise than pleased and proud at his success. But her manner was recondite and baffling.
"Have you accepted the post?" she asked.
"Why, of course," he said. "How could I refuse such a chance."
She regarded him dubiously. "No—you could not refuse it. I don't blame you for not refusing it. I think I know how you feel...."
"It's splendid!" Humphrey cried. His voice rang with enthusiasm. "Fancy Ferrol singling me out. It will be the making of me.... It might lead to anything."
"But weren't you only going to stay in journalism for another year, Humphrey?"
"Oh, of course, when I said that, I couldn't foresee that this was going to happen.... Elizabeth," he said suddenly, with a great fear on him, "do you want me to give it up now?"
"No ... no," she said in haste. "You don't understand. It's so difficult to make you see. I wasn't prepared for this...." She laughed for no reason at all. "I am glad of your success. I am glad you're happy.... Of course, you don't expect me to come to Paris, like this, at a moment's notice. You must give me time."
He smiled with relief. "Why, of course, I didn't imagine I could carry you away at once.... But after a few months, perhaps. It will take me a few months to get used to the work."