"So you are going, after all," she said, and her voice seemed to him the sweetest music he had ever heard. "I never believed you would," she added.
"Why not?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't know," she said, and laughed a little. "But I suppose there are girls enough in Iceland," and then she laughed outright. "Only they can't be of much account up there."
"But I've heard they are very fine girls," he answered; "and it's a fine country, too."
She tossed her head and laughed and swung her switch.
"Fine country! The idea! Fine company, fine people and a good time. That's what a girl wants if she's worth anything."
"Then I suppose you will go back to London some day," he said.
"That doesn't follow," she answered. "There's father, you see; and, oh, what a pity he can't live at Lague!"
"Do you like it so much?" he said.
"Like it?" she said, her eyes full of laughter. "Six big hungry brothers coming home three times a day and eating up everything in the house—it's delightful!"