“Certainly not. Is that how you talk to other men? You must try to think that I am another man, and talk as you would then.”
“Oh!” groaned Harry. He murmured that it was all new to him. The sudden limit which she put to this delightful offer of friendship was disconcerting, but he reflected that, after all, and for a time, friendship was a step in the right direction. There was no doubt that Claudia meant what she said, even if she spoke with extraordinary simplicity. Now, as she began to gather her fluttering leaves together, he said eagerly, “You’re not going?”
“You are,” said the girl, with a smile. “We’ve talked enough.”
“We haven’t said a word about Thornbury. You’ll come to Thornbury, won’t you?”
“Is that where you live? Yes, if I can do anything there. My engagements have not yet begun, and Thornbury may as well start them as any other place.” She spoke in a business-like tone, and took out a note-book. “Let me see; how much time will you want, and when?”
“As soon as possible, and for as long as possible.”
“That won’t do,” she said, laying down her book, and speaking coldly. “This is strictly business.”
“I’ll get my mother to write,” said Harry, hurriedly.
Claudia opened her eyes.
“Why trouble her? Surely I can arrange it with you?”