“Ah, that’s like Ellie: you might have known she’d get an equivalent when she lent you all this. But I don’t believe she thought you’d be so conscientious about it.”
Susy considered. “I don’t suppose she did; and perhaps I shouldn’t have been, a year ago. But you see”—she hesitated—“Nick’s so awfully good: it’s made me look; at a lot of things differently....”
“Oh, hang Nick’s goodness! It’s happiness that’s done it, my dear. You’re just one of the people with whom it happens to agree.”
Susy, leaning back, scrutinized between her lashes his crooked ironic face.
“What is it that’s agreeing with you, Streffy? I’ve never seen you so human. You must be getting an outrageous price for the villa.”
Strefford laughed and clapped his hand on his breast-pocket. “I should be an ass not to: I’ve got a wire here saying they must have it for another month at any price.”
“What luck! I’m so glad. Who are they, by the way?”
He drew himself up out of the long chair in which he was disjointedly lounging, and looked down at her with a smile. “Another couple of love-sick idiots like you and Nick.... I say, before I spend it all let’s go out and buy something ripping for Clarissa.”
The days passed so quickly and radiantly that, but for her concern for Clarissa, Susy would hardly have been conscious of her hostess’s protracted absence. Mrs. Vanderlyn had said: “Four weeks at the latest,” and the four weeks were over, and she had neither arrived nor written to explain her non-appearance. She had, in fact, given no sign of life since her departure, save in the shape of a post-card which had reached Clarissa the day after the Lansings’ arrival, and in which Mrs. Vanderlyn instructed her child to be awfully good, and not to forget to feed the mongoose. Susy noticed that this missive had been posted in Milan.
She communicated her apprehensions to Strefford. “I don’t trust that green-eyed nurse. She’s forever with the younger gondolier; and Clarissa’s so awfully sharp. I don’t see why Ellie hasn’t come: she was due last Monday.”