"Bath! Bath! What do I want with Bath at this time of the year? Oh, 'tis kind in you to offer, but I want to go to Andover! I want to see all the old friends again. And I want to get away from everything here—'tis all so gloomy—after—after my lord's death!"
"Dearest, of course you shall go away—but if only you would remember that you are in mourning—"
"But 'tis what I wish to forget! Oh, Dicky, don't, don't, don't be unkind."
"Very well, dear. If you must go—go."
She clapped her hands joyfully.
"Oh thank you, Dicky! And you are not angry with me?"
"No, dear, of course not."
"Ah! Now I am happy! 'Tis sweet of you, Dicky, but confess you are secretly thankful to be rid of me for a week! Now are you not?" She spread out her fan in the highest good-humour and coquetted behind it. Richard was induced to smile.
"I fear I shall miss you too sadly, dear."
"Oh!" She dropped the fan. "But think how you will look forward to seeing me again, and I you. Why, I shall be so thankful to be back after a week away, that I shall be good for months!"