Susy, conscious of reddening suddenly, drew back as though the leap of her tell-tale heart might have penetrated the blue flannel shoulder against which she leaned.
“Really, dearest—!” she murmured; but with a sudden doggedness he renewed his “Why?”
“Because she’s in such a fever to get to St. Moritz—and in such a funk lest the hotel shouldn’t keep her rooms,” Susy somewhat breathlessly produced.
“Ah—I see.” Nick paused again. “You’re a devoted friend, aren’t you!”
“What an odd question! There’s hardly anyone I’ve reason to be more devoted to than Ellie,” his wife answered; and she felt his contrite clasp on her hand.
“Darling! No; nor I—. Or more grateful to for leaving us alone in this heaven.”
Dimness had fallen on the waters, and her lifted lips met his bending ones.
Trailing late into dinner that evening, Ellie announced that, after all, she had decided it was safest to wait for Nelson.
“I should simply worry myself ill if I weren’t sure of getting my things,” she said, in the tone of tender solicitude with which she always discussed her own difficulties. “After all, people who deny themselves everything do get warped and bitter, don’t they?” she argued plaintively, her lovely eyes wandering from one to the other of her assembled friends.
Strefford remarked gravely that it was the complaint which had fatally undermined his own health; and in the laugh that followed the party drifted into the great vaulted dining-room.