The girl laughed. "Very gradual. Is it three days or four?"
"Time doesn't enter much into that sort of impression."
"Well, it should," responded Edna decidedly.
They said no more, but reaching the ledges seated themselves in the lee of a sheltering rock, and read, and gazed, until the swift passing hours brought them to a realizing sense that the anxious housekeeper would begin to be on the lookout.
"Well," remarked John with a luxurious sigh, "our friends don't know what they missed by scorning our invitation."
Edna said nothing, but the memory of her parting words with Sylvia began to be an uncomfortable one. The situation was emphasized by her guests' failure to join them here. She had not really supposed that Sylvia could feel easy to be with her again until they had been able to talk alone, but she told herself that she could not have left John to his own devices this afternoon. This evening she would surely make everything understood with Sylvia, show the girl how her behavior had appeared, and, she hoped, give her a new standard.
Miss Lacey and Judge Trent were seated on the piazza when they approached.
"Just in time," said Miss Martha.
"Where's that lazy Sylvia? Not down yet?" asked Edna.
"No," replied Judge Trent; "I was just telling Miss Lacey I should go up and knock on her door. She assures me that laziness is not one of my niece's characteristics."