He looked at her crossly. “What in hell is fun, anyway?”
“Poor Matthew. You’ll never know. It’s a gift. You’re born with it, or you never get it.”
CHAPTER XV
DICK, a little under-slept, a trifle red about the eyes, was shaving. He knew he was late for breakfast and that that would bother Cecily. He knew the mechanism of his house ought not to be disturbed when the comfort and routine of the children depended on it. He did not feel quite fit for work and the hang-over of dance tunes persisted in his head. Moreover it was the first time that he and Cecily had not come home together from a party and while the arrangement was perfectly amicable at the time it was made with Matthew, it did seem a trifle irregular this morning. Dick hurried and it made him cross.
Cecily hurried him at breakfast, too. She wanted to go over lists of Christmas presents with him, to plan the trimming of the tree. Christmas was day after to-morrow. She did not refer to the night before. He wondered with some irritation whether that was deliberate, and forced the opening of the subject.
“Did you have a good ride last night?”
“Wonderful. It rested me ever so much. I slept hard.”
“I hope,” said Dick, “that you’ll try to keep a bit more fit. You ought to be in good enough condition to stand a few hours’ dancing. Don’t you think you need a tonic, perhaps?”
It seemed very much off the point to Cecily. “I’d hate to have to take medicine so I could get myself to the point of dancing all night. Hardly worth while, is it?”