CHAPTER XV
JOHN waited in considerable anxiety for Miss Hamilton's reply to his letter, and when a few days later she answered his appeal in person by presenting herself for work as usual he could not express in words the intensity of his satisfaction, but could only prance round her as if he had been a dumb domestic animal instead of a celebrated romantic playwright.
"And what have you done since I've been away?" she asked, without alluding to her illness or to her mother or to her threat of being obliged to leave him.
John looked abashed.
"Not very much, I'm afraid."
"How much?"
"Well, to be quite honest, nothing at all"
She referred sympathetically to the death of Mrs. Touchwood, and, without the ghost of a blush, he availed himself of that excuse for idleness.
"But now you're back," he added, "I'm going to work harder than ever. Oh, but I forgot. I mustn't overwork you."
"Nonsense," said Miss Hamilton, sharply. "I don't think the amount you write every day will ever do me much harm."