“I know you will, Alick. Where do you go?”
“Into Virginia, of course, where our estates lie.”
“Oh, what a troublesome business that is connected with your father’s will, to be sure—to bother you so much as it has ever since we have been married. Why cannot lawyers make wills so clear that there can be no mistake about their meaning?”
“Ah, why indeed?” repeated Mr. Lyon, laughing in spite of his secret self-reproach.
“When do you start, dear Alick?”
“To-morrow morning, my child.”
“So soon! Oh, that is very sudden!”
“These matters admit of no delay, Drusa. Now, my little woman, don’t look so downcast. It is unpleasant enough for me to have to leave you. Don’t add to my vexation by your looks.”
“No, Alick, I will not if I can help it. You will want your clothes got ready,” she added, cheerfully, “and the time is short. Tell me at once, please, what you would like to take with you, and I will pack them up to-day.”
“Oh, a dozen of each sort of under-garment; one morning and one evening suit; my dressing-case and writing-case; those are all, I think. Have them put into the little black Russia leather trunk.”