Mrs. Dakin kissed her affectionately. “I wish you were going with me. I shall miss you horribly!” she declared.
She followed Anne to the door, and stood a moment, waving and smiling as her friend crossed the street.
All the bored discontent had vanished from her face, and her husband, who at the moment drove up in his car, thought she had never looked prettier.
The reflection was accompanied by a curious dull pain at his heart, a pain to which he was well accustomed.
“I’ll drive you home,” he called to Miss Page, stopping his car at the opposite pavement.
“So Madge is going to Paris?” she said, as they swept off.
“Yes. I hope it will do her good,” he returned shortly. “She complains of neuralgia. Perhaps a change will set that right. I hear the little Carfax girl is going to London to study this autumn?” he added after a moment. “She’s off her head with delight about it. That’s your doing, of course.”
“Well, I suggested it to her father,” Anne admitted.
He laughed. “We all know your suggestions. When a witch ‘suggests,’ mere man is instantly hypnotized. Poor old Carfax can do nothing now, but put his hand in his pocket and produce the necessary fees.”
Anne smiled. “Come in and look at my hollyhocks,” she said, as they turned into the drive. “They’re really worth seeing.”