“Then I shall leave you to your cigars,” she said, lightly, pushing back her chair, in the instinct to escape.
For back of the lightness, excitement, altogether too insecurely barred, was making a dash for liberty.
But Ned was on his feet as well, and caught her firmly but lightly around the waist as she tried to pass him.
“You’ll have to stay and help me out,” he said, with mock reproach. “How do you expect a man who only arrived last night to tell it straight?”
Even then they thought he must have mis-spoken himself.
But Elenore turned with her hand on his shoulder and faced them buoyantly.
“There was once a Rising Genius, who had one great, glorious opportunity,” she began. “He had, too, a sister whom the gods hadn’t dowered with talent of any kind; and a father——”
“Who not only fractured his leg,” John Carrington broke in, “but got fractious in other ways as well. And, not knowing of the opportunity, insisted on his son’s coming home.”
“So the sister, who was perfectly bully, and the pluckiest girl——” Ned began.
But Elenore interposed.