“I want to see you. You’ll come in every day?” His eyes were entreating but his face was composed. Not likely he would make a fool of himself twice.
“Oh—of course—as often as you like. I owe you that much.” And she smiled ruefully. But she gave a deep inner sigh of relief as the nurse opened the door with a sprightly:
“Time’s up, Mrs. Bylant.”
“Mrs. Bylant!”
CHAPTER XIX
She found Elsie at the window of the drawing-room watching her brother and Polly Pleyden, who were retreating down a path.
“Hullo, Elsie. Hope your cold’s better.”
Elsie turned swiftly and was annoyed to feel her face flushing. “I’m afraid you think me a brute,” she stammered.
“Not at all,” said Gita briskly. “A cold must be a beastly affliction. Mother used to have them and always went to bed. Eustace had a horrid one last winter. Looked horrid, too. Have a cigarette?”
“No, thanks—bad for a cold.” Elsie could not feign hoarseness, but she was grateful that her face was peaked and pale.