"I have always said that children nowadays have all the best things," said Keith, desirous to get off delicate ground. "You know, some one has said he never ate a ripe peach in his life: when he was a boy the grown-ups had them, and since he grew up the children have them all."
She laughed.
"I am very severe, I assure you."
"You look it. I should think you might be Herod himself."
She smiled, and then the smile died out, and she glanced around her.
"I owe you an apology," she said in a lowered voice.
"For what?"
"For--mis--for not answering your letters. But I mis--I don't know how to say what I wish. Won't you accept it without an explanation?" She held out her hand and gave him the least little flitting glance of appeal.
"I will," said Keith. "With all my heart."
"Thank you. I have been very unhappy about it." She breathed a little sigh of relief, which Keith caught.