"No, no; thanks!" he said, as he pitched his cap on the stand. "It's too late."
As he spoke he went up to Lady Luce and looked down at her, his face still flushed, his eyes still unnaturally bright.
"What have you been doing with yourself, Luce?" he asked.
She glanced up at him for a moment, then lowered her eyes and drew the dog's sleek head close to her.
"I don't know," she said, with a slight shrug of the shoulders. "Nothing, I think. It has been an awfully long day."
"Luce has been bored to death, and—for once—has admitted it," said Lady Angleford, laughing. "Her yawns and sighs have been too awful for words."
He stood and looked down at her. She was perfectly dressed, and looked like a girl in the light frock, with its plain blouse and neat sailor knot. At any rate, if he married her he would have a beautiful wife; and that was something. That she loved him, was still more.
Now that he knew Nell had forgotten him, there was no reason why he should hesitate.
He bent lower, and his hand fell on the dog's head and touched hers.
"Luce!" he said.