"I shall do more," said Jane, resolutely. "I shall insist."
"It will tickle him almost to death," said the Marchioness, again raising the napkin to her lips.
At twelve o'clock the next day, Trotter's voice came blithely over the telephone.
"Are you there, darling? Lord, it seems like a century since I—"
"Listen, Eric," she broke in. "I have something very important to tell you. Now, do listen—are you there?"
"Right-o! Whisper it, dear. The telephone has a million ears. I want to hear you say it,—oh, I've been wanting—"
"It isn't that," she said. "You know I do, Eric. But this is something perfectly terrible."
"Oh, I say, Jane, you haven't changed your mind about—about—"
"As if I could," she cried. "I love you more than ever, Eric. Oh, what a silly thing to say over the telephone. I am blushing,—I hope no one heard—"
"Listen!" said he promptly, music in his voice. "I'm just in from the country. I'll be down to see you about five this afternoon. Tell you all about the trip. Lived like a lord,—homelike sort of feeling, eh?—and—"