Hilda talked faster than was her wont; there was an additional rose-color in her pretty cheeks, and a brighter light than usual in her soft brown eyes. She laughed and jested and made merry over her egg and toast.
"How pretty you look!" said Judy, with a heart-whole sigh of admiration and content.
She saw nothing wrong, and Hilda kissed her and left the room a few minutes later.
She was still wearing her heavy traveling-dress, but after a moment's reflection she went into her bedroom, and quickly changed it for a pale silk dress of the softest shade of rose. This dress was a special favorite of her husband's; he used to liken her to a rosebud in it, and said that no color more truly matched the soft tender bloom of her young face.
Hilda put on the rose silk now, arranged her dark hair picturesquely, and going downstairs to the little drawing room, occupied herself for an hour or more in giving it some of those delicate touches which make the difference between the mistress of the house being at home and away.
It was a very warm evening for the time of year, but Hilda had a fire lit in the grate. The shaded lamp shed a softened golden glow in its accustomed corner of the room, and Jasper's favorite chair was placed ready for his reception; then Hilda sank down into her own easy-chair, and taking up a book, tried to read.
Susan came presently into the room.
"Oh, Susan," said her mistress, "I was about to ring for you. It has struck ten o'clock; you and cook are to go to bed, please; I will wait up for Mr. Quentyns."
"If you please, ma'am," said Susan.
She stopped and hesitated.