Amherst raised his eyes from the letter, thinking as he did so how well her bright head, with its flame-like play of meanings, fitted into the background she had made for it. Still unobservant of external details, he was beginning to feel a vague well-being of the eye wherever her touch had passed.
"Well, we must do it," he said simply.
"Oh, must we?" she murmured, holding out his cup.
He smiled at her note of dejection. "Unnatural woman! New York versus Hanaford—do you really dislike it so much?"
She tried to bring a tone of consent into her voice. "I shall be very glad to be with Cicely again—and that, of course," she reflected, "is the reason why Mr. Langhope wants us."
"Well—if it is, it's a good reason."
"Yes. But how much shall you be with us?"
"If you say so, I'll arrange to get away for a month or two."
"Oh, no: I don't want that!" she said, with a smile that triumphed a little. "But why should not Cicely come here?"
"If Mr. Langhope is cut off from his usual amusements, I'm afraid that would only make him more lonely."