After tea, at which time her friends were unusually lively and talkative, she left the house with Edgeway. She did not feel in harmony with the eager crowds and gay brilliancy of the illuminated city, but she felt anxious to please him, so she put all thoughts of George and Alma temporarily from her.
Edgeway was in one of his gayest moods.
"This is great!" he exclaimed as they started. "To really, really feel the realism of your presence!"
She looked up at him smiling. In these moods, he seemed to her, like a big, happy boy.
"I'm glad such a little makes you joyous," she returned.
"Such a little! Perhaps if you knew the immensity of my pleasure, you would not regard it so lightly," he said gaily.
It seemed to Betty, he could hardly contain his exuberance of spirits. Talking rapidly, remarking every detail of the illuminations and the crowd, he completely engrossed her attention, and she was surprised at her own enjoyment of the evening.
They returned about eleven o'clock, and not until they were nearing home, did Edgeway cease to be lively.
For several minutes he did not speak, and she looked up into his face, to discover a gloom gathering in his eyes.
"What troubles you?" she asked, kindly.