"A little."
And he opened his hand so that hers must drop.
"Oh, but anything is better than nothing! Come in and tell me—quick!"
"Bravo!" added an amused voice from the porch.
It was Steel, spruce and serene as ever, a pink glow upon his mobile face, a pink flower in his reefer jacket, a jaunty Panama straw covering his white hairs, and buckskin shoes of kindred purity upon his small and well-shaped feet. Langholm greeted him in turn, only trusting that the tremors which had been instantly communicated to his own right hand might not be detected by the one it was now compelled to meet.
"I came to tell Mr. Steel," said Langholm, a little lamely.
"Excellent!" murmured that gentleman, with his self-complacent smile.
"But am I not to hear also?" demanded Rachel.
"My dear Mrs. Steel, there is very little to tell you as yet. I only wish there were more. But one or two little points there are—if you would not mind my first mentioning them to your husband?"
"Oh, of course."