She did not say precisely what conditions were in her mind, but evidently the comment mollified Sylvia who, after wriggling her mop of curls through the neck of her blue sweater, tossed beret and letter into a chair and began, in high spirits, to help with the breakfast.
Yet notwithstanding she did so graciously, it was quite obvious her eyes were on the clock and that she was fidgeting to be off; so as soon as the coffee and toast were ready, Marcia begged her not to delay.
The girl needed no urging.
"The sooner I start, the sooner I shall be back, I suppose," she answered with feigned reluctance. "Men are so unreasonable. It's a perfect nuisance to trot to Wilton with this letter at this hour of the morning, especially if I must go the long way round. Still, there's no other way to get it there. Any errands?"
"Not today, thanks. Just the mail."
"I'll wait for it."
The eagerness betrayed by the reply left not the slightest doubt that Sylvia would wait, and gladly.
As the door closed behind her, Marcia smiled whimsically.
She continued to smile, even to hum softly to herself while she prepared Heath's breakfast tray, and she was just about to take it upstairs when there was a gentle knock at the kitchen door.