She began to pull her lavender to pieces—this conversation was growing too dangerously fascinating and must be stopped at once.
"It is getting nearly breakfast-time," she said gaily, "and I just want to pick a big bunch of sweet peas before the sun gets on them, won't you help me?—and then we will go in."
She slid to the floor before he could put out a hand to assist her, and with her swift, graceful movements led the way to the tall sticks where the last of the summer sweet peas grew.
Here she handed him the basket and told him to work hard—and all the while she chattered of the ways of these flowers, and the trouble she had had to make them grow there, and would not once let the conversation upon this subject flag.
"Some day when I live in England, I suppose I can have a lovely garden there—it is famous for gardens, isn't it? I take in Country Life and try to learn from it."
"Yes," he answered, and grew stiff. The sudden picture of her living in England—with Henry—came to him as an ugly shock.
"Before you settle down in England, I would like you to see Arranstoun,—please promise me to come and stay there before you do? I will have a party whenever you like. I would love to show it to you—every part of it—especially the chapel—it is full of wonderful things!"
If she chose to give him reminders of aspects which hurt, he would do the same!
"It sounds most interesting," she agreed, but had not the courage to make any remarks about the chapel or ask what it contained.
The clock over the gateway struck twelve—and she laughingly started to walk very fast toward the house.