“Well, come to tea with me some five o’clock—with me and Nor, that is.”
“Is that very Bohemian?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” said Olive, glumly. Then, brightening up. “But that’s only a beginning. And you haven’t got time to come, either. That makes it a pleasure.”
“I shall be delighted to find time,” he said, looking his words. While they were discussing dates, the Countess rose and stalked away.
“She looks offended,” he said.
“Poor old Countess!” said Olive, “she’s breaking up fast.”
“But she’s going to live forever.”
“I know. How sad! We came across her at Rome—the eternal lady in the eternal city. She’s much grayer since then. Earthly immortality seems almost as horrible as heavenly. Fancy living for ever and ever and ever. No rest for the righteous! Oh, I do hope religion isn’t true. How’s your friend?”
“Which friend?”