“She is rather tired this morning.”
“I hope that is all.”
“I hope so, too. She is not delicate, naturally, neither is she very strong, and we have been walking more than she is accustomed to do since we came to Paris.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Rather more than a week?”
“You are on your way to England, I suppose?”
“I believe so; but we have scarcely decided yet.”
“I presume you would hurry home if anything happened to your uncle, Sir Lawrence?”
“Naturally. But we heard from him just before we left Biarritz, and he then said that he was remarkably well, so that I do not anticipate a sudden recall.”
Mrs. O’Hara had a letter in her hand; but she put it down on the table, and lifted those wonderful Irish eyes of hers to his face.