"That's good hearing. You'd laugh at me if you knew how I've been worrying about you. I vow I lay awake half the night thinking of you."
"Don't be so proud about it, for I did exactly the same thing for you. At least, to be exact, I sat up talking to old Philia about Geoff and all his faults and virtues. She really is a good old soul, and has taken quite a fancy to you."
"And since it seems that her presence in your little home is essential to my being allowed there, I have, perforce, taken quite a liking to her. Good thing it's a mutual affection, eh?"
"Isn't it indeed? Well, to-night sees the end of her sittings, so you will be able to come quite often if you care to. To start with, I herewith formally invite you to supper to-morrow night. Miss Evarne Stornway requests the pleasure of Mr. Geoffrey Danvers' company at supper to-morrow night, at seven-thirty. R.S.V.P."
"Mr. Danvers has much pleasure in accepting Miss Stornway's kind invitation for Tuesday evening," returned Geoff with mock solemnity.
"Right!" laughed Evarne, clapping her hands together gleefully. "You shall come out into the kitchen and help me make pancakes. I'm really quite adorable then. You will just love me when you see me making pancakes."
She tossed back her head and dangled a cherry into her open mouth. Geoff's reply was interrupted by the sound of stumbling footsteps mounting the stairs.
"Talking of angels," cried Evarne, as a panting figure leaned against the doorway. "Why, Philia, what do you want?"
"H'excuse my intrudin'," commenced the old woman. "Two young gentlemen sittin' in the garden told me to come right up, and I should find the studio at the top of the stairs, and the door standin' open. I couldn't lose me way if I tried, they said; and sure enough I'm 'ere."
"Then come in and sit down, Mrs. Harbert," said Geoff. "I hope nothing's the matter?"