“Can’t I help?”
“Only by doing the things you just promised to do. I want you to, of course; it was only the suggestion in the phrase you used that drove me crazy! Some day, sweetheart, you shall promise before witnesses; but just now, swear to me alone, that you will obey my least dictate in this—this trouble.”
“I will, Barry,” and, solemnly, Natalie lifted her scarlet, curved lips for the kiss that sealed the compact.
“Mr. Roberts is here,” said Joyce, looking in at the door; “he wants to see Natalie.”
“Oh, I can’t see him!” and Natalie clung tremblingly to Barry, “what shall I do?”
“Do just as I tell you, dearest. See him, of course. And——”
“Then I’ll have to dress. Go on down, Barry, and talk to him till I come.”
Natalie seemed to turn brave all in a moment at Barry’s words. Stannard went downstairs, and Joyce helped the girl to slip into a house-gown.
“A pretty one,” she stipulated. “I want him to like me.”
“As if any one could help doing that,” and Joyce selected a little grey velvet, with lots of soft lace falling away from the round-cut bodice.