Dawn was turning the quiet valley and distant mountains into a riotous rosy glory, when, as they drove slowly up to her house, Austin gently raised the gossamer scarf which had blown over Sylvia's face, half-hiding it from him. She looked up with a smile to answer his.
"Are you very tired, dear?"
"Not at all—just too happy to talk much, that's all."
"Sylvia—"
"Yes, darling—"
"You know I have planned to start West with Peter three days after
Sally's wedding—"
"Yes—"
"Would you rather I didn't go?"
"No; I'm glad you're going—I mean, I'm glad you have decided to keep to your plan."
"What makes you think I have?"