She had made no sound; perhaps her nearness awoke him, for he opened his eyes.
“Dulcie!” he exclaimed.
“Do I please you?” she whispered.
He sat up abruptly.
“You wonderful child!” he said, frankly astonished. Whereupon he got off the sofa, walked all around her inspecting her.
“What a get-up! What a girl!” he murmured. “You lovely little thing, you astound me! Selinda, you certainly know a thing or two. Take it from me, you do Miss Soane and yourself more credit in your way than I do with paint and canvas.”
Dulcie blushed vividly; the white skin of Selinda also reddened with pleasure at her master’s enthusiasm.
“Tell Aristocrates to fix my bath and lay out my clothes,” he said. “I’ve guests coming and I’ve got to hustle!” And to Dulcie: “We’re going to have a little party in honour of your graduation. That’s what I have to tell you, dear. Does it please you? Do your pretty clothes please you?”
The girl, overwhelmed, could only look at him. Her lips, vivid and slightly parted, quivered as her breath came irregularly. But she found no words—nothing to say except in the passionate gratitude of her grey eyes.
“You dear child,” he said gently. Then, after a moment’s silence, he eased the tension with his quick smile: “Wonder-child, go and seat yourself very carefully, and be jolly careful you don’t rumple your frock, because 128 I want you to astonish one or two people this evening.”