"Guess I'm sleepy. Ate too much. 'Twas a good dinner; and, just as I told your father, things always taste especially good when you don't get much at home. I said it on purpose. I thought maybe 'twould make him think."
Still silence.
Helen turned sharply and peered into her husband's face.
"What's the matter?" she demanded suspiciously. "Why are you so glum?"
Burke, instantly alert to the danger of having another scene such as had followed Gleason's first visit, desperately ran to cover.
"Nothing, nothing!" He essayed a gay smile, and succeeded. "I'm stupid, that's all. Maybe I'm sleepy myself."
"It can't be you're put out 'cause we came away so early! You suggested it yourself." Her eyes were still suspiciously bent upon him.
"Not a bit of it! I wanted to come."
She relaxed and took her gaze off his face. The unmistakable sincerity in his voice this last time had carried conviction.
"Hm-m; I thought you did," she murmured contentedly again. "Still, I was kind of scared when you proposed it. I didn't suppose 'twas proper to eat and run. Mother always said so. Do you think he minded it—your father?"