"We'll think about it. Ah, it's warm in here!"
This afternoon the guardians of the Hall were likely to be troubled with few visitors. Eve at once led the way upstairs to a certain suite of rooms, hung with uninteresting pictures, where she and Hilliard had before this spent an hour safe from disturbance. She placed herself in the recess of a window: her companion took a few steps backward and forward.
"Let me do what I wish," he urged. "There's a whole long winter before us. I am sure I could find a couple of rooms at a very low rent, and some old woman would come in to do all that's necessary."
"If you like."
"I may? You would come there?" he asked eagerly.
"Of course I would come. But I sha'n't like to see you in a bare, comfortless place."
"It needn't be that. A few pounds will make a decent sort of sitting-room."
"Anything to tell me?" Eve asked, abruptly quitting the subject.
She seemed to be in better spirits than of late, notwithstanding the evil sky; and Hilliard smiled with pleasure as he regarded her.
"Nothing unusual. Oh, yes; I'm forgetting. I had a letter from Emily, and went to see her."