CHAPTER VI.
HAPPINESS.
Philip kept his promise. Thinking, however, he soon found, did not amount to much till he had seen more; and he went a few days after to Mrs. Wishart's house.
It was afternoon. The sun was streaming in from the west, filling the sitting-room with its splendour; and in the radiance of it Lois was sitting with some work. She was as unadorned as when Philip had seen her the other day in the street; her gown was of some plain stuff, plainly made; she was a very unfashionable-looking person. But the good figure that Mr. Dillwyn liked to see was there; the fair outlines, simple and graceful, light and girlish; and the exquisite hair caught the light, and showed its varying, warm, bright tints. It was massed up somehow, without the least artificiality, in order, and yet lying loose and wavy; a beautiful combination which only a few heads can attain to.
There was nobody else in the room; and as Lois rose to meet the visitor, he was not flattered to see that she did not recognize him. Then the next minute a flash of light came into her face.
"I have had the pleasure," said Dillwyn. "I was afraid you were going to ignore the fact."
"You gave us lunch the other day," said Lois, smiling. "Yes, I remember. I shall always remember."
"You got home comfortably?"
"O yes, after we were so fortified. Mrs. Wishart was quite exhausted, before lunch, I mean."
"This is a pleasant situation," said Philip, going a step nearer the window.