"I wish I had brought a novelette. Sure you don't want to hear a little more about the Countess of Castlemaine and the rascalities of the Navy Office?"
"No; some other time, when I feel a bit more robust. It isn't every day that the mind can digest such a period with comfort."
"Are we two old fogies beginning to wear on each other?"
"I hope not. But when you go down, stop for Medora a minute and see if she hasn't got something to say."
Medora—when he finally got down stairs—had.
She laid some knitting on the drawing-room table and came out into the hall.
"No reading this afternoon, I judge. What I heard, or seemed to hear, was a broken flow of talk."
"No reading. Restless."
"So I was afraid. I'd rather have one good steady voice purring along for him, and then I know he's all right. Carolyn has been too busy lately. What seems to have unsettled him?"
"Oh, I don't know. Young life, possibly."