“Run along. It’s your imagination.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing to be frightened of?”
“Nothing!”
So Rosalie went, and returned like the wind. Her eyes shone with fear, and her breath came in quick pants.
“What did you see?” he asked, laughing.
“Nothing! I did not stay long enough.”
So then, in the comfortable cheerfulness of Mr. Barringcourt’s study, they had tea.
Rosalie sat in the big arm-chair by the fire; he in his customary one drawn from the table. Very proud she felt to pour out tea, and quite forgave the youth who waited on them for his officious behaviour of the morning. Besides, this was such delicious tea. It was not a bit like that which she had upstairs. The china was superb, with far richer colours than Crown Derby, or anything at all resembling it upon the planet Lucifram.
No wonder that, in the midst of all this luxury and comfort, with a glorious fire and sufficient light, she heaved an unconscious sigh of great contentment.
“Still discontented?” asked Mr. Barringcourt, breaking the heavenly silence.