Nataly enfolded him in a homely smile. 'A country-house? We go and see it to-morrow?'
'And you've been pining for a country home, my dear soul.'
'After the summer six weeks, the house in London does not seem a home to return to.'
'And next day, Nataly draws five thousand pounds for the first sketch of the furniture.'
'There is the Creckholt . . .' she had a difficulty in saying.
'Part of it may do. Lakelands requires—but you will see to-morrow.'
After a close shutting of her eyes, she rejoined: 'It is not a cottage?'
'Well, dear, no: when the Slave of the Lamp takes to building, he does not run up cottages. And we did it without magic, all in a year; which is quite as good as a magical trick in a night.' He drew her close to him. 'When was it my dear girl guessed me at work?'
'It was the other dear girl. Nesta is the guesser.'
'You were two best of souls to keep from bothering me; and I might have had to fib; and we neither of us like that.' He noticed a sidling of her look. 'More than the circumstances oblige:—to be frank. But now we can speak of them. Wait—and the change comes; and opportunely, I have found. It's true we have waited long; my darling has had her worries. However, it 's here at last. Prepare yourself. I speak positively. You have to brace up for one sharp twitch—the woman's portion! as Natata says—and it's over.' He looked into her eyes for comprehension; and not finding inquiry, resumed: 'Just in time for the entry into Lakelands. With the pronouncement of the decree, we present the licence . . . at an altar we've stood before, in spirit . . . one of the ladies of your family to support you:—why not? Not even then?'