“And you have crushed my blouse,” she said reproachfully.
It was Lady Blake.
“How are you both?” she asked, as she rustled towards them, pretty, smiling, and glancing from one to the other.
“Very happy,” said Mr. Herbert. “The nightingales are still singing.”
“Ah,” said Lady Blake, as she seated herself in his chair, and accepted a cushion from him. “Happy—there is something subdued about happiness. I want you to come and stay with me.”
“When is your uncle coming home?” Lily said to her husband.
“In a week,” he replied.
“In a week then,” said Mrs. Herbert, “we would like to come to you.”
After Lady Blake left he said:
“And now it is over.”