She smiled.
"A little more than a week,"—she answered, gently—"Don't worry!"
"I'm not worrying. Please tell me what day it is!"
"What day it is? Well, to-day is Sunday."
"Sunday! Yes—but what is the date of the month?"
She laughed softly, patting his hand.
"Oh, never mind! What does it matter?"
"It does matter,"—he protested, with a touch of petulance—"I know it is July, but what time of July?"
She laughed again.
"It's not July," she said.