As we were seated, I ventured a side glance at Penelope and perceived that she seemed nothing ruffled, though her colour was still high. For she gave me that faint, enchanting smile that now began to send a thrill through me, and she answered without confusion any remarks addressed to her.
Remembering my Indian outside, I told Flora, and Colas took food to him on the veranda.
And so we spent a very happy hour there—three old friends together once more, and a young girl stranger whom we loved already. And I did not know in what degree I loved her, but that I did love her now seemed somewhat clear to my confused senses and excited mind,—though to love, I knew, was one thing, and to be in love was still another. Or so it seemed to me.
My animation was presently noticed by Claudia; and she rested her eyes on me. For I talked much and laughed more, and challenged her gay conceits with a wit which seemed to me not wholly contemptible.
"One might think you had been drinking of good news," quoth she; "so pray you share the draught, Jack, for we have none of our own to quench our thirst."
"Unless none be good news, as they say," said Lady Johnson, wistfully.
"News!" said I. "Nenni! But the sun shines, Claudia, and life is young, and 'tis a pretty world we live in after all."
"If you admire a marsh," says she, "there's a world o' mud and rushes to admire out yonder."
"Or if you admire a cabinful o' lonely ladies," added Lady Johnson, "you may gaze your fill upon us."
"I should never be done or have my fill of beauty if I sat here a thousand years, Polly," said I.