The anticipation of such enjoyment was not, however, the sentiment expressed by Mrs. Waythorn's charming face when she presently joined him. Though she had put on her most engaging teagown she had neglected to assume the smile that went with it, and Waythorn thought he had never seen her look so nearly worried.
"What is it?" he asked. "Is anything wrong with Lily?"
"No; I've just been in and she's still sleeping." Mrs. Waythorn hesitated. "But something tiresome has happened."
He had taken her two hands, and now perceived that he was crushing a paper between them.
"This letter?"
"Yes—Mr. Haskett has written—I mean his lawyer has written."
Waythorn felt himself flush uncomfortably. He dropped his wife's hands.
"What about?"
"About seeing Lily. You know the courts—"
"Yes, yes," he interrupted nervously.