She went into the hall and opened the front door for him. Filled with a motherly solicitude, she wanted to help him off with his overcoat, but he abruptly declined that.
“Am I late?” he asked. “I thought one o’clock, you know—I’m sorry.”
“Mercy, that doesn’t matter!” said Lexy. “Aren’t you going to change your shoes? You ought to. Well, then, you’d better come in and eat your lunch this minute.”
“You’re no end kind, to bother like that!” he said earnestly. “I do appreciate it!”
“Who wouldn’t be?” thought Lexy, glancing at him. “You poor soul, you look as if you’d seen a ghost!”
He took his place at the table, and Lexy sat down opposite him, her chin in her hands, anxiously waiting for him to begin to tell her what had happened.
“Beastly day, isn’t it?” he said, with an obvious effort to speak cheerfully.
“Awful!” agreed Lexy.
“And yet, you know,” he went on, “I rather like a walk on a day like this. The country about here is pretty, don’t you think?”
Lexy glanced around, to make sure that Mrs. Royce had closed the door behind her.