“She would be delighted, I’m sure; but would you like me to come, too?” he said, bending his heavy brows.
“Of course,” replied Stella. She flushed slightly and lowered her eyes.
“I’m afraid I’m not a very gay companion, Stella. In fact, I don’t think I ever was one—except in the days when I used to tell you fairy-tales about the palace—”
“Oh, don’t!” She could not restrain the quick little cry and gesture. “We mustn’t talk about that any more. We’ve got the future to think of. Reconstruction—isn’t that what they call it? We have got to look at things as they are, and laugh sometimes.”
“I feel,” said he, “as though I could never laugh again.”
“Yet Unity meant to make you happy and not miserable,” said Stella.
“I know,” said he, “and that’s the devil of it.”
He paused for a moment, his hands thrust deep in his trousers’ pockets, and his heel on the fender. At last he said: “It would be the best thing in the world for the dear old lady. And God knows it will be good for me. So if you’ll have us for a week or two, we’ll be glad to get away from here.”
“I’ll ask Miss Lindon when she comes down.”
And Miss Lindon, coming down soon afterward with Lady Blount, received and accepted the invitation. Sir Oliver, summoned from the garden, expressed his approval.