“I’m afraid, my bird,” he was saying, as they crossed the threshold, “that you miss Maudie more every day that goes by, and soon you’ll be marrying yourself, and there’ll only be old Darby and Joan to jog along together.”
“I’ve not gone yet, daddy,” said Julia. “Maudie had what we may call adequate temptation. I may go on for years before I meet anybody who takes my fancy as completely as Harry took hers.”
“Meantime, I think you ought to go out with your mother a little more. She looks worn-out to-day.”
“Do you, darling?” looking toward the large white figure at the window. “I declare you do. Why, you told me that you would be busy all day and wouldn’t want me.”
“Did I?” said Regina. “I do not think quite that, dearest. But it was true, I did not want you with me to-day; I was full of business of one sort or another.”
“Well, well, come to dinner,” said Alfred, genially, “come to dinner. We needn’t live to eat, but we must eat to live, and here is a bit of salmon that would gladden the heart of a king.”
He was very full of joke that night, telling wife and daughter of one or two little incidents which had happened to him during the day, and making merry exceedingly.
“You’re very mischievous and gay to-night,” said Julia. “What have you been doing to-day?”
Regina looked across the table involuntarily.
“Oh, I have been doing the usual thing, my dear—making money for you to spend. By the way, I have had an excellent offer for the house.”