"Oh, I think so," murmured Stella, anxiously skipping the letter in her lap. "She says he's fairly well off."
"I think," observed Julian, "that we may take it that if Marian says Captain Stanley is fairly well off, his means need give us no anxiety. What?"
"Julian, must you talk like that?" Stella pleaded. "You'll make it so hard for yourself if you're bitter."
"On the whole, I think I must," replied Julian, reflectively. "If I talked differently, you mightn't like it; and, anyhow, I daren't run the risk. I might break down, you know, and you wouldn't like that, would you? Shall we get to work?"
"Oh, not this morning!" Stella cried. "I'm going out; I knew you wouldn't want me."
"Did you though?" asked Julian. "But I happen to want you most particularly. What are you going to do about it?"
She looked at him in surprise. He had a peculiarly teasing expression which did not seem appropriate to extreme grief.
"I'll stay, of course, if you want me," she said quietly.
"You're a very kind little elf," said Julian, "but I don't think you must make a precedent of my wanting you, or else—look here, d' you mind telling me a few things about your—your friendship with Marian?"
Stella's face cleared. She saw now why he wanted her to stay. She turned her eyes back to the garden.