He glanced at his wife, but there was no help there, so he plunged in headlong.
“To tell the truth, there is a friend of mine who wants to go to the falls tomorrow. He sails for Europe immediately, and has no other day.”
The Boston rigidity perceptibly returned.
“Oh, if that is all, you needn’t have had a moment’s trouble. I can just as well put off my visit.”
“Oh, can you?” cried Mason, joyously.
His wife sat down in the rocking-chair with a sigh of despair. Her infatuated husband thought he was getting along famously.
“Then your friends are not waiting for you at Quebec this time, and you can stay a day or two with us.”
“Eva’s friends are at Montreal, Edward, and she cannot stay.”
“Oh, then—why, then, to-morrow’s your only day, too?”
“It doesn’t matter in the least, Mr. Mason. I shall be most glad to put off my visit to oblige your friend—no, I didn’t mean that,” she cried, seeing the look of anguish on Mason’s face, “it is to oblige you. Now, am I not good?”