"If you don't banish that pathetic droop from the corners of your—your adorable mouth, I'll do something positively desperate," he interrupted, folding' his arms resolutely so that he couldn't, by any chance, do it.
She smiled at him, quite confidingly,—greatly to his disappointment, for he had rather hoped for consternation,—and said:
"It is banished." Then she started up the stairs. "Come. I'll show you to your room first. You may come into father's room when you have brushed your hair. It looks positively savage."
"My room?" he murmured, coming close behind her.
"Yes. Don't you expect to dress for dinner, sir?"
"Oh, I can't put you to the trouble of—"
"You are to stop here—in this house, Mr. Van Pycke. Your room is all ready for you. I was compelled to turn you out in the cold the other night and I was so sorry. Now you are in my own home, you must stay—to make up for the other time. My father expects you to stay."
"Over night?" he said unbelievingly.
"Unless, of course, you've something else you'd rather do," she said quickly.
"Why—why," he stammered, his head swimming with delight, "there's nothing in the world I'd rather do than to stay here. It seems incredible."