"What did I say?" said I. "Something seemed to tell me you were a goddess, when—"
"When?"
"When you were upset this morning. I saw you very close then, you see. Well! What sort of weather have you been having in Olympus lately? And how's Vulcan? I suppose Cupid must be getting quite a big boy?"
She laughed. "You wouldn't know him if you saw him," she said.
"Don't be too sure. When does he go to the 'Varsity? Or shan't you send him?"
"He's there now. Doing awfully well, too!"
"Taken a first in the Honour School of Love, I suppose? Is he as good a shot as ever?"
"He's a very good son."
"Ought to be," said I.
"Yes," she said steadily, gazing with eyes half-closed, over the fields and hedgerows, away to the distant hills, the faintest smile hung on her parted lips. "He's never given me a day's trouble since he was born. I don't think he will, either, not for a long time, any way."