David’s face went a shade less light.
“Besides,” Tom caught himself, “I have an engagement. I promised to have tea with Mrs. Duffield. Fennido is to be there. She asked me specially to bring you, too.”
“You don’t seem to go out as much with Cornelia and me, as you used to.”
“My dear fellow, I am getting busier all the time. You know that. If you don’t understand, who should? You know that there goes into a date like this something other than free choice.” He walked up and down. David stood still. “Will you come?” Tom asked.
“I have this engagement with Cornelia.... If you ask Cornelia also.” Tom’s eyes dropped. He hummed a few high notes of a popular melody. He found his chair, slapped the Sunday paper into its proper folds on his knees.
“One doesn’t take one’s family to these chatters, Davie. Fortunately, since Cornelia would have to be dragged. How unreasonable you are.”
David stood motionless. He was wondering if Tom told all the truth. Tom took the offensive: “I’ll be blessed, Davie, if you’re not thinking evil things about me now. I don’t give enough care to my Sister. I don’t bring her enough into my life, into our life.” He sat back in his chair and thrust his sharp question into the indecisive vagueness of David’s “Not so?”
“Why—I didn’t say that.... But why do we go out together so seldom now? We three. Why is Cornelia here so little?”
“Why don’t you invite her?”
“I always thought that was for you to do.”