Helen had retired, leaving a note for them on the library table:
Forgive me, but I've yawned my head off—not because you two lunatics are out star-gazing, but because I'm in my right mind and healthily fatigued. Put the cat out before you lock up!
H.
Stephanie laughed, and they hunted up the cat, discovered her asleep in the best room, and bore her out to the veranda. Then Cleland locked up while Stephanie waited for him. Her tears had dried. She was a trifle pale and languid in her movements, but so lovely that Cleland, already hopelessly in love with her, fell deeper as he looked at her in this pale and unfamiliar phase.
Her grey eyes returned his adoration sweetly, pensively humourous:
"I'm in rags, emotionally," she said. "This loving a young man is a disturbing business to a girl who's just learned how.... Are you coming upstairs?"
"I suppose so."
"You'll sleep, of course?"
"Probably not a wink, Steve."
"I wonder if I shall."