“I’m sorry, darling; but it’s impracticable. It will be hard enough to squeeze out any holiday this year; an extra trip abroad is out of the question. Expenses have been heavy lately”—he shrugged his shoulders with a smile. “They always are heavy, somehow, and we must be careful not to launch into fresh extravagance.”
“We have not been extravagant. The money has gone in uninteresting, disagreeable necessities. No one can call a doctor’s bill extravagance, or a new cistern, or stair carpets. Au contraire, we’ve been so dull and prudent that it would be a tonic to spend a little money on fun, for a change. Can’t we manage it, somehow, Rob? Do! Sell a share, or something. It would be a treat.”
The lines on Robert’s face deepened suddenly; his smile flickered out.
“No; I’ve done that too often. That must come to an end. My shares are painfully near an end. I’m sorry, dear, but it’s impossible.”
Jean shrugged her shoulders. The lines deepened on her face also, and her lip quivered with disappointment, but she made no fruitless protestation. For the rest of the meal she was silent, leaving the conversation to be carried on by Vanna and Robert; but before leaving the room she went out of her way to pass Robert’s chair and lay a caressing hand on his shoulder.
He lifted his face to her with the old adoring expression in his brown eyes, and the tired lines disappeared from his brow. He had kept up the conversation out of consideration for Vanna’s feelings, but his attention had really been engrossed by Jean, and his own regrets at being obliged to refuse her request. Now he evidently felt himself forgiven, and was transparently grateful for his wife’s forbearance.