She was in her bedroom wrapped in a negligée when she admitted him.
“Was it very beautiful?” she asked eagerly.
“Very extensive; yes, fine,” he replied.
“You must take me up there to-morrow, Irving.”
“I don’t think I shall be here to-morrow. That’s what I came to speak to you about.”
“Not be here!” repeated Mrs. Bruce in dismay. “Why, look at this room, Irving.” The speaker indicated the woodsy interior. “Isn’t it perfectly enchanting? I was just asking Betsy if she didn’t feel like a dryad.”
Irving glanced at Betsy, quite slim enough for the rôle, laying out her mistress’s night paraphernalia on a second bed in the opposite corner of the green room. “I was just saying I should like to stay here all summer. What do you mean by to-morrow, Irving?”
“Nothing that need disturb you at all. I hear alluring stories of fishing at the lake. I thought I would go there and wait till you came.”
“Oh, dear!” returned Mrs. Bruce. “Is Nixie going too?”
“I haven’t asked him yet. He may. I’ve seen all I care to see here. Thought I’d come and explain because I might get off before you’re up in the morning.”