She did not ask a question—she was too well trained by experience. He would tell her if he would; if not, it was futile to speculate as to his intentions.
“Well, the Oriental tour is un fait accompli,” he said, smiling. “You sail within the week.”
She started in surprise. She had definitely been denied this desire, which she had once harbored, on the score of all others most seemingly untenable—expense. But it was her husband’s habit to make everything inordinately costly. He would not appear in public except en prince, nor travel abroad save with a most elaborate and extensive itinerary and a suite of attendants.
“This week—why—I don’t know——” she hesitated. “I suppose—I can get ready.”
“Oh, you will scarcely need any preparation,” he said cavalierly. “Any old things will answer.”
This was so out of character with his wonted solicitude in small matters that she was surprised and vaguely agitated. She saw a quiver in the tip of her dainty lavender slipper, extended on a hassock before her in the relaxed attitude she had occupied, and she withdrew it that the disquietude of her nerves might not be noticed. She raised herself to an upright posture in her chair before she replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I wasn’t alluding to dress. What I am wearing here will answer, of course—but I was thinking of the arrangements for the nurse. Will we take his old colored nurse, or do you suppose she would not be equal to the requirements of the trip? Had Elise better go in her place?”
“Oh, that cuts no ice. For the baby won’t go at all,” he replied, as simply as if this were an obvious conclusion.
She sat petrified for one moment. Then she found her voice—loud and strong and definite.
“The baby won’t go!” she exclaimed. “Then I won’t go—not one foot! What do you take me for?”