A shadow drifted over his countenance, like that cast by some summer cloud long becalmed, which sets sail before a sudden gust.
"Only a modicum of success to counterbalance the disagreeable features of a journey in a freight train caboose."
"Why do you hazard that dangerous schedule, instead of waiting for the passenger express?"
"Business exigencies narrow the limits of choice; moreover, had I waited for the express, I should have missed the coveted pleasure of this meeting with you. The rosy glamour of happy anticipation conquers even the discomfort of a freight caboose."
Did she suspect that some sullen undercurrent of intense feeling drove these eddying foam bells of flattery into the stream of conversation; or was her reply merely a chance ricochet shot, more accurately effective than direct fire?
"This afternoon I had a note from Sister Serena, asking for a few articles conducive to the comfort of a sick room; and I really cannot determine whether we should feel regret, or relief at the tidings that that unfortunate girl—can scarcely—"
"Spare me the Egyptian mummy at my feast! The memento mori when I would fain forget. Let me inhale the perfume of your roses, without hearing that possibly a worm battens on their petals. Will you ride with me tomorrow afternoon?"
"I am sorry that an engagement to dine will prevent, as the afternoons are so short."
"Are you going to the Percy's?"
"Yes. Will you not be there?"