"Don't be cynical, dear," said the new Julia.
Marie waved this away with a brief laugh. "I want all your news," she demanded. "Where are you living? What are your plans? What's the house like, and where did you get your furniture?"
"We've got a wee house, the dearest thing, near Onslow Gardens, and we've not finished furnishing yet; we're proceeding with it this afternoon. I'm lunching with Desmond, and then we're going furnishing together. Desmond loves it."
"And you—you're happy?"
"Oh, Marie! I was never so happy in my life."
The baby rose from its play at the other side of the dining-room, and, tottering to her mother, begged to be lifted upon her lap.
"I only want one of those," said Julia, regarding the mite.
"That will come," Marie replied with a forced gaiety.
"Desmond took me for a motoring honeymoon," said Julia. "As you know, we had made no plans. There wasn't time. At least, I hadn't, but it seemed he'd got them all mapped out in his head, the wicked thing! We had a simply lovely time, and coming home is lovelier. I adore pottering round a house, arranging this and that, and ordering the dinner."
"You enjoy it?"