Her neck grew pink as she said it, just as Lady Maria had seen it grow pink on previous occasions. Moderate as the words were, they expressed ardour.
Lord Walderhurst came in half an hour later and found her standing smiling by the window.
"You look particularly well, Emily. It's that white frock, I suppose. You ought to wear a good deal of white," he said.
"I will," Emily answered. He observed that she wore the nice flush and the soft appealing look, as well as the white frock. "I wish—"
Here she stopped, feeling a little foolish.
"What do you wish?"
"I wish I could do more to please you than wear white—or black—when you like."
He gazed at her, always through the single eyeglass. Even the vaguest approach to emotion or sentiment invariably made him feel stiff and shy. Realising this, he did not quite understand why he rather liked it in the case of Emily Fox-Seton, though he only liked it remotely and felt his own inaptness a shade absurd.
"Wear yellow or pink occasionally," he said with a brief, awkward laugh.
What large, honest eyes the creature had, like a fine retriever's or those of some nice animal one saw in the Zoo!