“I am glad you like it,” said Joe, indifferently.
“I am so anxious to meet your cousin, Miss Thorn,” said Vancouver, trying a new subject. “I hear there is to be a dinner for him to-morrow night at Mrs. Sam Wyndham’s. But of course I am not asked.”
“Why ’of course’?” inquired Joe quickly.
“I believe Mrs. Wyndham thinks I dislike Englishmen,” said Vancouver at random. “But she is really very much mistaken.”
“Really?”
“Yes–I should be willing to like any number of Englishmen for the sake of being liked by one Englishwoman.” He looked at Joe expressively as he spoke.
“Really?”
“Indeed, yes. Do you not believe me?”
“Oh, yes,” said Joe. “Why should I not believe you?” Her voice was calm, but that same angry flush that had of late so often shown itself began to rise slowly at her temples. Vancouver saw it, and thought she was blushing at what he said.
“I trust you will,” said Vancouver. “I trust that some day you will let me tell you who that Englishwoman is.”