“Oh, what splendid work!” she cried. “How good to be a man! But it's better,” she added, with a quick glance at Barney and a little shy laugh, “to be a woman.”
It was the anxiety in Charrington's eyes that arrested Lady Ruthven's attention and made her bring the dinner somewhat abruptly to a close.
“Oh, Lady Ruthven, must we go?” cried Iola, as her hostess made a move to rise. “What a delightful dinner we have had! Now you are not going to send me away just yet. 'After dinner sit a while,' you know, and I believe I feel like singing to-night.”
“My dear, my dear,” said Lady Ruthven, “do you think you should exert yourself any more? You have had an exciting day. What does your doctor say?”
“Barney?”
“Barney, indeed!” echoed Jack indignantly. “Oh, the ingratitude of the female heart! Here for all these weeks I have—”
“Forgive me, Jack. I am quite sure you won't be hard-hearted enough to banish me.”
“An hour on the library couch, whence one can look upon the sea, in an atmosphere of restful quiet, listening to cheerful but not too exciting conversation,” said Jack gravely.
“And music, Doctor?” inquired Iola, with mock humility.
“Well, I'll sing a little myself,” replied Jack.