Then she saw him and set the child down. "David!" And she ran to him and kissed him—very prettily, as a loving wife should.
"And now," said Aunt Clara, "I will say good-by to David and leave you alone to the last minute. The car will be waiting for you when you're ready." She held up her cheek to David and left them.
Shirley gasped. "You're not going to-night?"
"In a few minutes. I must."
"But—but this is ridiculous. Surely you can stay overnight at least."
"No. I promised to be back to-morrow morning. My time isn't my own."
Which was not quite fair to Jonathan in its implication.
"Why didn't you let me know you were coming?"
"I didn't think of it until this morning when I got here and saw you going out. I supposed I should find you."
"Surely you're not piqued because I— David, what is it?" A look of dread came into the dancing eyes. "You're looking wretchedly. You're not going to tell me we've had some more bad luck?"
"I hope," he said quietly, "you won't call it that I came to ask you to go back—home."