“Lady Forrest!”
“Yes; she would like you to spend a fortnight with her.”
He saw that his young wife was secretly pleased, although she said, coolly enough, “That little quiet woman! I have scarcely spoken to her.”
“She has been about with you, has she not, while you and your dear friends were having your musicales, and you have been civil to her?”
“Such trifling things: only to get her a seat, or talk to her when she looked lonely.”
“The trifling things are the ones that count. It would be a good place for you to visit. They are sound people, though Sir Henry is a bit of a snob.”
“Suppose I do not care for this visit, what plan have you in your wisdom arranged for me?”
“If you were a model wife you would not ask for plans.”
“May I ask what your idea of a model wife’s duty would be just now?”
“A regular story-book wife,” he said, banteringly, “hangs around her husband’s neck, and exclaims, ‘Take me with you! I cannot be parted from you!’”