“Yes—But, Mr. Waters,” I interrupted wildly, “I’m so afraid that that house wouldn’t—couldn’t do for us!”
“What, my dear! Why not? If you only see it, you’ll say as I did——”
“I’m sure it’s perfectly lovely,” I burst in; “but the fact of the matter is that we—we have arranged to live in London”—“and in separate houses for ever,” I might have added. I went on improvising rapidly. “You see, we shall have a town house for most of the year, and for the summer we’re looking round for a sort of—of farmhouse, with two cottages by the sea, you know! In—in Anglesey, I think. I am so fond of—of that part of the country, so—Those were our plans, aren’t they?” I concluded, with one reckless “Say so, do!” glance at the Governor.
“Yes—rather! That’s what we’d thought of!” he returned, with a glance back at me which betrayed something very like pure gratitude.
As well it might!
For again, just before I spoke, my employer had been at such an utter loss that—for the first time since I’d seen him, I felt positively sorry for him.
And I answered his glance with the tiniest nod of encouragement.
They were the first friendly signals that had ever passed between us.
* * * * *