In this better mood I met her when Annette was not with her, and asked where she would dine.
"Where you please," she answered, meekly.
Her softened tone filled me with pity and remorse.
"My wish is to please you," I said.
She glanced at me in surprise.
"Are you setting a trap for me?" she asked.
"No, Barbara, only I have been thinking that we do not quite understand one another."
"It seems so," she admitted, in a mournful voice, "and it is making me very unhappy."
"Well, don't let it make you unhappy any longer. We both have faults, and we will try to correct them."
"You dear boy!" she cried, throwing her arms round my neck. "Then you confess you were in the wrong?"