"We are friends again now,"—she went on—"And really,—really we
MUST try and keep so!"
This, with a quaint little nod of emphatic decision.
"Do you think it will be difficult?" he asked, looking at her more earnestly and tenderly than he himself was aware of.
She laughed, and blushed a little.
"I don't know!—it may be!" she said—"You see you've twice ruffled me up the wrong way! I was very angry—oh, very angry indeed, when you coolly stopped the service because we all came in late that Sunday,—and to-night I was very angry again—-"
"But I was NOT angry!" said John, simply—"And it takes two to make a quarrel!"
She peeped at him from under her long lashes and again the fleeting blush swept over her fair face.
"I must go now!"—she said—"Won't you come into the drawing-room?— just to hear Cicely sing at her very best?"
"Not to-night,"—he answered quickly—"If you will excuse me—-"
"Of course I will excuse you!" and she smiled—"I know you don't like company."