"Very!" She paused and sighed slightly. "She is so kind and clever—much more clever than I can ever be—and she knows many things about the world which I do not. And she admires you so much, Philip!"
"Does she indeed?" Philip laughed and colored a little. "Very good of her, I'm sure! And so you'd really like to go to the Brilliant to-night?"
"I think so," she said hesitatingly. "Clara says it will be very amusing. And you must remember how much I enjoyed 'Faust' and 'Hamlet.'"
Errington smiled. "You'll find the Brilliant performance very different to either," he said amusedly. "You don't know what a burlesque is like!"
"Then I must be instructed," replied Thelma, smiling also, "I need to learn many things. I am very ignorant!"
"Ignorant!" and he swept aside with a caressing touch the clustering hair from her broad, noble brow. "My darling, you possess the greatest wisdom—the wisdom of innocence. I would not change it for all the learning of the sagest philosophers!"
"You really mean that?" she asked half timidly.
"I really mean that!" he answered fondly. "Little sceptic! As if I would ever say anything to you that I did not mean! I shall be glad when we're out of London and back at the Manor—then I shall have you all to myself again—for a time, at least."
She raised her eyes full of sudden joy,—all traces of her former depression had disappeared.
"And I shall have you!" she said gladly. "And we shall not disappoint Lady Winsleigh to-night, Philip—I am not tired—and I shall be pleased to go to the theatre."