Cheriton threw up his hands with a gesture of well simulated horror.
“No, Caroline,” said he; “you have no soul. And yet Ogle tells me that during the past week you have been literally walking in the Valley of the Shadow.”
“Ogle is a liar,” said the occupant of the four-poster. “He is thinking of his fee.”
“For shame, Caroline,” said Cheriton. “Out upon you and your sentiments. And you who have been so near the Abyss!”
The occupant of the four-poster gave the great head-dress a tilt. The gaze that was directed from under the bushy eyebrows was that of a sibyl.
“Cheriton,” she said, “some two months ago I gave you advice in regard to your appearance. I have observed with pleasure that you have had the good sense to follow it.”
It was not quite clear, to judge by Cheriton’s demeanor, whether he felt that this was a legitimate cause for gratification.
“I am glad, Caroline, you find the result agreeable,” said he.
“My advice was given for a particular reason, you will remember.”
“Yes, Caroline, it was.”