“Who doesn’t? What is the play tonight?”
“I’ll tell you about it afterwards,” he said. “There is something else I want to say to you first.”
She nodded. She scarcely showed so much interest as he would have liked.
“It is about Berneval,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed upon her face. “I saw Mr. Pleydell today, and he told me that you were all going there. He suggested that I should come too!”
“How delightful!” she exclaimed. “Can you really get off?”
“Yes. Sir Wingrave is going away, and doesn’t want me. I must go somewhere, and I thought that I might go over and take rooms near you all. Would you care to have me?”
“Of course I would,” she answered frankly. “Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, her face clouding over—“I forgot!”
“Well?”
“I am not sure,” she said, “that I am going.”
“Not going?” he repeated incredulously. “Mr. Pleydell told me that it was all arranged.”