“Very well—if I must. Can’t I get the things myself?”
“No.” She ran away to get them for him, with some new joy singing in her heart as she went backward and forward, bringing a pitcher of milk, a glass, a dish of strawberries, some cream, and the sugar, sitting down herself by the table afterwards as he ate and drank. He gave her a sudden smile, so surprised and pleased that the color surged in her cheeks.
“I’m not used to this,” he said simply. “What is that dress you have on—silk?”
“No, it’s cotton; do you like it?”
“Very much. Oh, please don’t get up—Zaidee wasn’t calling you. I won’t eat another mouthful unless you stay just where you are—please!”
“Well!” said Dosia, with laughing pleasure.
“Besides, I’ve been wanting to consult you about the Alexanders,” he went on, leaning across the table toward her, intimately. “It’s so beautiful to me to see them together that to feel that they’re in trouble distresses me beyond words. You’re so near to them both I thought that perhaps—— Do you know anything about the real state of Mr. Alexander’s affairs?”
Dosia shook her head. “No; only that he is very much worried over them.”
“He wanted to sell the island; he sent me off on that business lately. He’ll sell it some time, of course, but I don’t know how complicating the delay is. He’s the kind of man you can’t ask; you have to wait until he tells you. You can’t make a person have confidence in you. Won’t you please have some of these strawberries with me? Do!”
“No; you must eat them all,” said Dosia, with charming authority, her arms before her on the table, elbow-sleeved, white and dimpled, as she regarded him. He seemed to take up all the corner, against the background of the green honeysuckle in the fresh morning light. With that smile upon his face, he seemed extraordinarily masculine and absorbing, yet appealing, too, inviting of confidence.