When she returned up the avenue, I was standing outside my den, waiting for her.
She came up smiling, with her air of perfect innocence. Wrapped from head to foot in furs, and wearing the prettiest of fur caps à la Russe, she looked her very best and brightest. The sun was shining clearly on the snow, and, as she came, she left soft footprints behind her.
“What is my Bear doing,” she cried, “out in the cold, and without his great coat, too?”
“The day looked so bright that I was tempted out. Where have you been?”
“Only for a little stroll,” she replied; “it is so pleasant out of doors. By-the-bye, dear, they are skating down on Omberley Pond. I think I shall drive over. Will you come?”
“Not to-day, Nell.”
She did not look sorry, I thought, at my refusal.
“Is there a party?” I asked carelessly.
“I don’t know; but I heard the Armstrongs were going, and some of the people from the Abbey.”
“And Mr. Santley, I suppose?”