“All we need now is a lady of the manor,” he said in a low tone. “It is not meet for man to live alone.”
Douglas looked at him quite frankly, her blue eyes steady as she gazed into his black ones. “Can’t your mother come and keep house for you?” she asked quite simply.
There was no flirting in Douglas Carter’s make-up. Herz, who refused to go far from her in spite of the count’s sudden devoted attentions, relaxed his grim expression that he had held ever since the pigeon house had been the subject of conversation. His mouth broke into a smile and his easy manner returned.
The Carters soon took their departure, although the master of the house was insistent that they should stay to tea with them.
“We must get back to Valhalla,” declared Douglas.
“Valhalla! Is that the name of your place?” asked Herz.
“That is the name my sister Nan gave it. She says we are all more or less dead warriors when the day is over. I don’t like giving it such a German name myself, but Nan says poetry is universal and—— Oh! I beg your pardon!” The girl had forgotten that her companion was of German birth.
“Do you dislike the Germans so much?” he asked.
“Not the German people——” she stammered. “Just the Imperial Government!”