“My valuable conversation shall be devoted to you alone.” He hesitated a moment. “Shall you be at home this evening?”
She looked down, tucking the end of her glove under her cuff. “Yes, I rarely go out two nights in succession.”
“May I call again?”
“Yes.”
She looked up and met his eyes. “It has to be done,” thought the Englishman, “there’s no getting out of it now, and I may as well take the plunge and get over it. And she certainly is likeable.”
“They are going now,” said Mabel.
He went over to Mrs. Forbes to make his adieux.
“I haven’t given you any tea,” she said. “It was stupid of me to forget it. You must come back to-morrow and have a cup.”
“I shall come—for the tea,” he said.
“And you must dine with us? Some day next week—Thursday?”