“No, it isn't there,” repeated Jerome, with a soft emphasis on the last word.
Lucina looked up at him, then her eyes fell before his. She laughed confusedly. “Did you know what I came to your house to-night for?” said she, trying to speak unconsciously.
“To see Elmira?”
“No, to give both of you an invitation to tea at Aunt Camilla's to-morrow afternoon at five o'clock.”
“I am very much obliged to you,” said Jerome, “but—”
“You cannot come?”
“No, I am afraid not.”
“The tea is to be in the arbor in the garden, the way it was that other time, when we were both children; there is to be plum-cake and the best pink cups. Nobody is asked but you and your sister and Lawrence Prescott,” said Lucina, but with no insistence in her voice. Her gentle pride was up.
“I am very much obliged, but I am afraid I can't come,” Jerome said, pleadingly.
Lucina did not say another word.