"I didn't know you cared more for painting than for music," he said.
"More?" she returned with wide eyes. "Oh, no, I'm an impartial and humble admirer of all the arts."
Wasn't she going to speak of last evening? He stood in silence beside her for a space to give her opportunity; but she was engrossed in munching a chocolate.
"My!" she said, regarding the heavy, satin, heart-shaped crimson box admiringly, "I've gazed at these with awe in shop windows, and then gone in and bought ten cents worth in a striped bag. I feel so grand!"
"I was disappointed last night," said Edgar, his gloomy regard changing slowly to his best look of devotion. There was nothing for him in Violet's eyes this morning. The expression he craved must be brought back in order that he might exercise care to treat her fairly.
"Because I couldn't go to walk with Mr. Sidney?" she rejoined, with the ironical gayety Edgar hated. "I was, too; but your charming serenade almost made up for it."
Edgar ground the even teeth. "I suppose it was foolish of me to exert myself," he said. "I probably waked you up."
"Oh, it didn't sound like the least bit of exertion," replied Violet. "The ease of your singing is really its great charm. You didn't mind my laughing, right at the end, did you?"
"Laughing!"