“I only wish to go a little way,” I added.
“Not to-day, Paley.”
“I want to show you a house, Lilian.”
“A house!” she exclaimed with something like an abused expression on her beautiful face, as though she half suspected the treason towards “dear ma” which I was meditating.
“I saw a little English basement house in Needham street, which I would like to have you look at, just as a curiosity, you know,” I continued, with as much indifference as I could assume.
“Why do you wish me to see it, Paley?” she asked, exhibiting more interest and apparently forgetting that she was tired.
“Well, because I saw it, and liked the looks of it. There can be no harm in seeing it.”
“I don’t know, Paley,” she answered, doubtfully; but whatever suspicions she cherished, she could have no idea of the truth, “We will go some other day.”
“But we may not have the opportunity another day. I happen to know that the house is open to-day.”
What do you mean, Paley? You look just as though you were planning something.”