His quick return, therefore, and the reckless obstinacy which showed on his face relieved her.
"A cat may look at a king, Miss Graham," he said coolly. "I came to say I was sorry. I am. And as I fail to see that your birthday has any monopoly over New Year's Day, I will wish you many happy returns of the latter. May your temper never grow worse."
She had to smile. The sudden outburst of truth was so like Ned when anything occurred to ruffle or disarrange the smooth covering of convention.
"Thank you," she replied quite frankly, feeling curiously at her ease; "I did not mean to be rude, but----"
"I know," he said simply, and paused. And she knew so well that he knew, that, though her lip quivered for a second she said no more. There was no need to say more.
It was so curious to have him sitting there beside her. Now that he had come all the trouble had gone; she was once more absolutely at her ease.
"And thanks also for the iris," she said after a pause, feeling glad to escape from the tragedies of life. "It is jolly; but I wish you hadn't dug the poor thing up."
"I did not dig it up," he replied coolly.
"You didn't--then how----"
"I wired to Covent Garden for another, and it came down in charge of such a superior person that I almost had to ask him to dine; so 'the most beautiful thing in the most beautiful place in the world' remains beside the sphinx as----" he paused.