"I mean for pleasure."
She looked at him out of her clear, gray eyes, then turned her gaze on the window. But she could not see through it; the pane only reflected her face darkly; and to her, for a moment, it seemed that way with her whole pent-up life, here in the Virginia marshes—no
outlet, no outlook, and wherever she turned her wistful eyes only her own imprisoned self to confront her out of the dull obscurity.
"I suppose," he said, watching her, "that you sometimes go to Norfolk for a holiday?"
"No."
"Or to Old Point, or Baltimore, perhaps?"
She had her under lip between her teeth, now, and was looking so fixedly at the window that he thought she had not heard him.
He rose from the table, and as she turned to meet his pleasant eyes he smilingly thanked her for waiting on him.
"And now," he said, "if you will say
to your father that I'd like to have a little talk with him——"