He paused. "What you have done?"
"What I have done that you avoid coming to Cedar Lodge any more?"
"I don't, do I?" He waited for an answer but Alice remained silent. His tone was amiable and his words simple, yet her heart was beating like a hammer. "You know I haven't gone about much lately," he went on, "but whenever you really want me for a dinner you have need only to say so."
"I never ask a guest for dinner without wanting him."
It was his turn to laugh. "Do you really manage that, Mrs. MacBirney? I can't; and yet I think myself fairly independent."
"Oh, of course, we are all tied more or less, I suppose, but--you know what I mean."
"Then you do want me to appear?"
Alice suddenly found her tongue. "We should never ask any one to whom Mr. MacBirney and I are under so many obligations as we are to Mr. Kimberly without 'wanting him,' as you express it. And we really want you very much to-morrow night."
He laughed, this time with amusement. "You are rather strong now on third persons and plurals. But I think I understand that you really do want me to come."
"Haven't I just said so?" she asked with good-humored vexation.