He wheeled round in his chair instantly, and let the glass fall from his eye. "Are you aware that that is a very odd remark to make to a man who believes he has found a new infusorian which may revolutionise all our theories, especially when it is made by a young lady who is busy, or ought to be busy, over her first ball-dress."
"Ought I?" She smiled back a little wearily. "I'm afraid I'm a bad pupil, Tom. I was just wishing Lady George could have postponed it till you had gone."
He gave a little grimace. "Thank you, my dear, I daresay it would be pleasanter,----"
"Don't tease, Tom. You know what I mean, perfectly; it interrupts the holiday."
"Which is perilously near its close, by the way. I have to go back next Thursday."
"Yes, I know. But don't talk of it; let us enjoy it while it lasts!"
He turned back to his work again hurriedly. "Now, that is what I should call truly frivolous. So be it. However, Vogue la galère! It is a very easy philosophy, at any rate."
They were silent again for a space, and then she began again. "What I meant was, that you must have seen so much of the world; and then you are so interested in it. Last night," she hesitated a little, "it struck me, Tom, that for all I knew, you might have--have seen something like it when you were through the Franco-Prussian war, for instance. You--you were quite a boy then, weren't you?"
"A baby, so to speak. I remember nearly fainting over the first wound I saw. Yes, Marjory, I've seen such romantic young fools many a time. I see a good deal of that sort of thing necessarily in my profession. It is human nature."
"I suppose so," she said curtly. "Well, I suppose I ought to go and dress. Oh, Tom! why couldn't Lady George have put it off, and why won't you let me stay at home?"