“Oh, our Lois! I’ll fix her all right—besides, it will come in handy for her Memoirs! She won’t mind.” And he got up from the bed with a lazy swing.
“Before you go, you might give me the hairbrush and small mirror from the table,” Virginia asked him.
Virginia and her husband never talked of any subject for more than five minutes; and never referred to a subject again. That is called “getting on” with a person.
2
But Lois did mind. She had a reputation to keep up. But when Lois minded, she minded secretly. For when George Tarlyon, raiding her bedroom with little ceremony, told her of the addition to the party, she instantly cried, “Oh, splendid!” And that very moment decided that the Riviera was perhaps seen to best advantage from Cannes, to which she and Johnny would repair that very afternoon. Johnny was informed.
She mentioned their departure to Ivor, without, of course, giving the reason for it, as they walked about the garden before luncheon. Virginia had not yet come down. Lois said:—
“Well, Ivor Marlay, I’m glad to have seen you again, if only for a passing moment. Try not to be a beast, my dear, and come to see me in London——”
“Why, are you going to-day?” The surprise in his question seemed to her a little out of proportion to the fact. She glanced at him as they walked.
“Yes, but not to London direct. Johnny and I are moving to Cannes this afternoon.”
Ivor stopped in his walk, and looked seriously at her.