“Hasn’t it?”
“Mr. Williams!”
He glanced cautiously at the door, and then lowered his voice. “Look here, my dear child, I’m old enough to be your father and—and my dear late wife took quite a fancy to you. Surely you and I understand one another well enough to take a little holiday jaunt together without anyone but our two selves being any the wiser.”
Elsie had not really expected the suggestion, and she was startled, but also triumphant.
“Whatever do you mean, Mr. Williams?”
He smiled, a small, thin-lipped smile, that held a suggestion of cynical mockery at her transparent pretence.
“Only what I say. I’m a poor, lonely fellow, with a little bit of money and no one to spend it on, and if I go to a nice hotel for the week-end I want someone to keep me company. Think over it, Elsie. You quite understand that I’m not asking anything of you—you’re as safe with me as if I were your father. Just a pretty face opposite me at meals, and a smartly dressed little companion to take out for a walk on the front or to the theatre on Saturday night—that’s all I want.”
“Oh, I daresay,” said Elsie.
His face stiffened, and she felt immediately that she had made a mistake.
“It’s awfully kind of you to think of such a thing, Mr. Williams, but I really couldn’t dream of it. Why, I don’t know what mother would think——”