There was a sumptuous meal in the spotless and radiant living room. There was a gentle fire on the hearth, though why, who could tell?
And then, according to orders when the sun was not too bright, Norval announced that he was going to take off his "screens."
"I'm going to look about for a full hour," he said quietly, but with that tone in his voice that always made Donelle bow her head.
"Mam'selle!"
"Yes, Mr.——" Jo wanted to say Richard Alton, instead she managed the Norval with a degree of courtesy that put heart in the man who listened.
"Mam'selle, I haven't noticed Donelle's voice. Where is she?"
"She'll come, if you want her, Mr. Norval."
Want her? Want her? The very air throbbed with the want.
"She's upstairs," added Jo, looking grimmer than ever.
"I—I have something to tell her about Tom Gavot—her husband." Norval smiled strangely.