And now busy days were upon her. There was the school with Richard running in after closing time, and staying, too, and keeping her from the work that was waiting at home. Then at twilight a dancing lesson with Geoffrey in the long front room, with Beulah playing audience and sometimes Eric, and with Peggy capering madly to the music.
Then the evening, with its enchanting task of stitching on yards of rosy silk. Usually Geoffrey read to her while she worked. His story was nearing the end. He was wearing heavy goggles which gave him an owl-like appearance, of which he complained.
"It spoils my beauty, Mistress Anne. I am just an ugly gnome who sits at the feet of the Princess."
"You are not ugly, and you know it. And men shouldn't be vain."
"We are worse than women. Do you know what you look like with all that silk around you?"
"No."
"Like Aurora. Do you remember that Stevenson speaks of a 'pink dawn'? Well, you are a pink dawn."
"Please stop talking about me, and read your last chapter. I am so glad that you have reached the end."
"Because you are tired of hearing it?"
"Because of your poor eyes."