'It may be as well,' said Tom: 'we must have perfect quiet till after the night's rest.'
'May I see one else to-night?' she wistfully asked.
'Let us see how you are when you have had some coffee and are rested.'
'Very well,' she said, with a gentle submission, that was as new a sight as Tom's tenderness; 'but indeed I am not tired; and it is so pretty and pleasant. Is this really Dr. Spencer's old house? Can there be such a charming room in it?'
'I did not think so,' said Tom, looking in amazement at the effect produced by the bright modern grate with its cheerful fire, the warm delicate tints of the furniture, the appliances for comfort and ornament already giving a home look.
'I know this is in the main your doing, Ethel; but who was the hand?'
'All of us were hands,' said Ethel; 'but Flora was the moving spring. She went to London for a week about it.'
'Mrs. Rivers! Oh, how good!' said Averil, flushing with surprise; then raising herself, as her coffee was brought in a dainty little service, she exclaimed, 'And oh, if it were possible, I should say that was my dear old piano!'
'Yes,' said Ethel, 'we thought you would like it; and Hector Ernescliffe gave Mrs. Wright a new one for it.'
This was almost too much. Averil's lip trembled, but she looked up into her husband's face, and made an answer, which would have been odd had she not been speaking to his thought.