“You’ll be late, Tod,” I said when I was ready.
“Plenty of time, Johnny. I don’t suppose I shall keep dinner waiting.”
Miss Deveen stood at the door of the blue room when I went down: that pretty sitting-room, exclusively hers, that I remembered so well. She had on a purple silk gown, with studs of pale yellow topaz in its white lace front, studs every whit as beautiful as the emeralds made free with by Sophie Chalk.
“Come in here, Johnny.”
She was beginning to talk to me as we stood by the fire, when some one was heard to enter the inner room; Miss Deveen’s bed-chamber, which opened from this room as well as from the landing. She crossed over into it, and I heard Cattledon’s voice.
“It is so very kind of you, Miss Deveen, to have allowed me to bring my niece here! Under the circumstances—with such a cloud upon her——”
“She is quite welcome,” interrupted Miss Deveen’s voice.
“Yes, I know that; I know it: and I could not go down without thanking you. I have told Lettice to take some tea up to her while we dine. She can come to the drawing-room afterwards if you have no objection.”
“Why can’t she dine with us?” asked Miss Deveen.
“Better not,” said Cattledon. “She does not expect it; and with so many at table——”