"Through and through, Tave; and I'm not coming home till after supper—it's lovely then—there's Mrs. Champney coming!"
She heard her step in the upper hall and ran upstairs to assist her in coming down.
"Will you go out on the terrace now?" she asked her on entering the library.
"I'll wait a while; it's too warm at this hour."
Aileen drew Mrs. Champney's arm chair to the other casement window. She resumed her seat and work.
"How are you getting on with the napkins?" the mistress of Champ-au-Haut inquired after a quarter of an hour's silence in which she was busied with some letters.
"Fine—see?" She held up a corner for her inspection. "This is the tenth; I shall soon be ready for the big table cloth."
"Bring them to me."
Aileen obeyed, and showed her the monogram, A C, wrought by her own deft fingers in the finest linen.
"There's no one like a Frenchwoman to teach embroidery; you've done them credit." Aileen dropped a mock courtesy. "Which one taught you?"