She was very sweet herself as she said it, her eyes taking in approvingly the decorations of the table. But she was also to him still a little grande dame, with her dignified carriage and her head held high. For a moment doubt knocked at his confident heart. It would all depend how she took his news. The next few minutes would decide his fate.
“Claudia, I have a disappointment for you. I have just had a wire from the Bridgemans. She is ill and they cannot come.” He was watching her narrowly, although the words were spoken easily enough. “There was no time to get another couple. The wire arrived a few minutes ago. You can see the table is set for them. Do you mind, dearest?”
For a moment she hesitated. She had a curious sudden feeling of fright, like someone who sees a gate closing behind her.
“Of course,” he said lightly, “it’s not quite comme il faut, but neither you nor I care about that, do we? We will go to a restaurant if you prefer. It’s a pity the Bridgemans didn’t let me know sooner.”
The room was very cozy and inviting. The situation was compromising; but then, as Frank said, did she care about small conventionalities? No one would know. It was only Mother Grundy who would drive them forth to a noisy, rag-time restaurant where they would hardly be able to hear one another speak. The country air had made her agreeably tired, so that the mellow light of the candles and the room perched high above the traffic appealed to her mood. Had he made the least attempt to persuade her she would not have stayed, but he was wise enough to make it seem a matter of indifference where they dined so long as they were together.
“I’m tired of the clatter of restaurants,” she said, sinking into a chair by the hearth; “and I smell a smell of savoury baked meats. It’s very peaceful here at night.”
“Marshall isn’t at all a bad cook,” returned Frank lightly, “and I told her to think out a specially nice dinner.”
“For the Bridgemans or—for me?”
The momentary sensation of panic had passed. He was just as he always was, devoted, deferential, entirely at her command.
“For the Bridgemans, of course. Need you ask?” He took the pretty arm lying on the arm of the chair and let his lips gently slip along the skin from the elbow to the wrist. “Claudia, I can’t think of anyone but you these days.”