“What have you been doing to Jimmie?” asked Mr. Deering.
“I have been giving him lessons in worldly wisdom.”
“Poor dear! They seem to have disagreed with him.”
Norma shrugged her shoulders. “That's his affair, not mine.”
“You don't mean to say that you and Jimmie have quarrelled?” laughed Connie. “How delightful! I've always wanted to quarrel with Jimmie just for the pleasure of kissing and making friends. But it has been impossible. Is it serious?”
“I hope not,” Norma answered; and then after a pause, “Oh, Connie, I'm afraid I've been a positive brute.”
Which evidence of a salutary conviction of her own wrongdoing shows that Jimmie's amazing shout of command had not aroused within her any furious indignation. Indeed, after the first moment of breathless astonishment, she had expressed an odd, almost amusing thrill of admiration for the man who had dared address her in that fashion. It was only a small feminine satisfaction in the knowledge that by going away he would punish himself for his temerity that had restrained her from summoning him back. As soon as he was out of call, she reproached herself for misconduct. She could have strangled the wanton devil that had prompted her cynical speech. And yet the same devil had saved an embarrassing situation. Wedded life and little children! If she had spoken what was trembling on her lips, how could she have looked the man in the face again? Her sex was revolting against that very prospect, was clamouring wildly for she knew not what. She dared not betray herself.
She greeted him smilingly in the drawing-room before dinner, as if nothing had occurred, and chatted pleasantly with Morland over his day's fortunes. Jimmie observed her with a sigh of relief. He had passed the last two hours greatly agitated; he had trembled lest he had revealed to her his soul's secret, and also lest his unmannerliness had given unpardonable offence. In any case, now he saw himself forgiven, and breathed freely. But he remained unusually silent during dinner, and spent most of the evening in the billiard-room with Mr. Hardacre.
That gentleman, joining the ladies later, fell into conversation with his daughter.
“How long is Padgate going to stay?” he asked, mopping his forehead with his handkerchief.