Eve was a little flushed, and ready to fall into a reverie while looking along a vista of sudden possibilities. This frank and straightforward letter had brought a flutter of exultation into her life.
“Mr. Canterton wants me to do some flower pictures for him.”
“How nice, dear! And shall you?”
“Of course—if I can.”
“It must have been our subscription to——”
“Mother, is it likely?”
“I am sure Mrs. Canterton was most charming. Is he going to pay you for——”
“He doesn’t say anything about it.”
“He might not think it quite nice to say anything—just at first.”
“I really don’t know why it shouldn’t be nice to mention a thing that we all must have. He wants me to go and see him.”