“She is much better and brighter than she has been for many weeks past,” replied the lady.
“Indeed! I am very glad to hear it, auntie! There is something about Odalite that I cannot understand. I came home finding her engaged to be married, of her own free will, and yet utterly wretched—wretched to the verge of madness! And now that the wedding has been publicly broken off in a manner reflecting the deepest disgrace upon the bridegroom, you say she is brighter and happier than she has been for many weeks,” said Le, in a very low voice, still leaning over the back of the lady’s chair and speaking in her ear.
“Yes, she is so; but hush, dear boy! This is not the place to discuss Odalite. Besides, it is not polite to whisper in company,” said Mrs. Force, with a smile at the quoted commonplace.
Le lifted his head, and took his elbows off the lady’s chair, only to see his two young cousins, Wynnette and Elva, standing on each side of him.
He caught them both, the one in his right arm, the other in his left, and drew them to his side.
“We are so glad you have come back, Le! We missed you so awfully yesterday—Wynnette and I did!” said Elva.
“Yes, the house was as dull as ditch water—I mean the mansion was excessively melancholy!” added Wynnette.
“I am sorry to hear that! And all on account of my absence?” laughingly inquired Leonidas.
“Largely, at any rate.”
“My darlings,” said Mrs. Force, “I thought you were in the schoolroom, busy with Miss Meeke in dressing dolls for the Sunday school Christmas tree.”