From this moment on, Laura's pleasure in her expensive seat, in the pretty blue theatre and its movable roof, in the gay trickeries of the MIKADO, slowly fizzled out. Evelyn had no more thought for her. Now and then, it is true, she would turn in her affectionate way and ask Laura if she were all right just as one satisfies oneself that a little child is happy—but her real attention was for the man at her side. In the intervals, the two kept up a perpetual buzz of chat, broken only by Evelyn's low laughs. Laura sat neglected, sat stiff and cold with disappointment, a great bitterness welling up within her. Before the performance had dragged to an end, she would have liked to put her head down and cry.
"Tired?" queried Evelyn noticing her pinched look, as they drove home in the wagonette. But the mother was there, too, so Laura said no.
Directly, however, the bedroom door shut behind them, she fell into a tantrum, a fit of sullen rage, which she accentuated till Evelyn could not but notice it.
"What's the matter with you? Didn't you enjoy yourself?"
"No, I hated it," returned Laura passionately.
Evelyn laughed a little at this, but with an air of humorous dismay. "I must take care, then, not to ask you out again."
"I wouldn't go. Not for anything!"
"What on earth's the matter with you?"
"Nothing's the matter."
"Well, if that's all, make haste and get into bed. You're overtired."