"Well, I shall mend it in bed," said Violet, brightly yielding. "There must have been a frost in the night."
She got back into bed with the trousers and her stitching gear, and lit the candle which saved the fantastic cost of electric light. As soon as she had done so Mr. Earlforward arose and drew up the blind.
"I think you won't want that," said he, indicating the candle.
"No, I shan't," she agreed, and extinguished the candle.
"You're a fine seamstress," observed Mr. Earlforward with affectionate enthusiasm, "and I like to see you at it."
Violet laughed, pleased and flattered. Simple souls, somehow living very near the roots of happiness—though precariously!