Instead of answering, Lorraine nestled down into her cushions, and said:
“It’s dreadful nice to see you, chummy.”
Hal drew up a footstool, and sat down with her head against the sofa.
“What does the court physician say, Lorry? Of course he is generally fathering and brothering and mothering you as well as doctoring?”
“Yes; he is taking care of me in a sort of all-round, comprehensive fashion. I don’t know what I should do without him.”
“Do!…” with a little laugh. “Why, just have another court physician instead.” Hal’s eyes strayed round the room. “What loverly flowers, Lorraine! Don’t they almost make you feel a corpse?”
“They would if they were white, I dare say.”
On a little table by the sofa was a bowl of violets, looking very sweet and homely among the beautiful exotics filling all the other vases. Hal buried her nose in them.
“How delicious! Who ventured to send your royal highness anything so homely as violets?”
Lorraine’s eyes rested on them with a look of tenderness. “Some one not very well off,” she said, “who had the perspicacity to know I should value them from him more than the choicest blooms.”