But the sneer was wasted. Lisabel laughed again, smoothed her collar at the glass, and left the parlour, looking as contented as ever.
Ere she went out, radiant in her new hat and feathers, her blue cloth jacket, and her dainty little driving-gloves (won in a bet with Captain Treherne), she put her head in at my door, where I was working at German, and trying to forget all these follies and annoyances.
“You'll not go, then?”
I shook my head, and asked when she intended to be back?
“Probably at lunch: or I may stay dinner at the Cedars. Just as it happens. Good bye.”
“Lisabel,” I cried, catching her by the shoulders, “what are you going to do?”
“I told you. Oh, take care of my feather! I shall drive over to the Cedars.”
“Any further? To the Camp?”
“It depends entirely upon circumstances.”
“Suppose you should meet him?”