'I would at once,' Harvey replied, with hesitation, 'if I felt sure that——' He broke off, and altered the turn of his sentence. 'I don't know whether she can leave those children.'
'You were going to make a different objection. Of course there's a little awkwardness. But you said long ago that all that sort of thing would wear away, and surely it ought to have done by now. If Mrs. Abbott is as sensible as you think, I don't see how she can have any unpleasant feeling towards me.'
'I can't suppose that she has.'
'Then now is the opportunity. Send an invitation.—Why shouldn't I write it myself?'
Alma had quite shaken off the appearance of lassitude; she drew herself up, looked towards the writing-table, and showed characteristic eagerness to carry out a project. Though doubtful of the result, Harvey assented without any sign of reluctance, and forthwith she moved to the desk. In a few minutes she had penned a letter, which was held out for her husband's perusal.
'Admirable!' he exclaimed. 'Couldn't be better. Nihil quod tetigit non ornavit.'
'And pray what does that mean?' asked Alma, her countenance a trifle perturbed by the emotions which blended with her delight in praise.
'That my wife is the most graceful of women, and imparts to all she touches something of her own charm.'
'All that?'
'Latin, you must know, is the language of compression.'