And she read it, conscious that her voice trembled.
"Well?" he said.
"Well?" she repeated, with a smile.
He put his hand to his brow.
"To dinner—to-morrow? Oh, dear me! Well, well! You would like to go?" and he looked up at her. "Of course you would like to go."
She looked down, her face was delicately flushed—her eyes shone.
"Of course," he said. "Well, say 'Yes.' It is very kind. You see, Stella, your wish is gratified almost as soon as you utter it. You will see your paragon—Lady Lenore."
She started, and her face went pale.
"I have changed my mind," she said, in a low voice. "I find I don't want to see her so badly as I thought. I think I don't care to go, uncle."
He stared at her. She was still an enigma to him.