Part 54 (1/2)
”Is this better than scrubbing the floor of a ward?” he smiled.
”Buying a trousseau is harder work than you realize, Lucas,” she answered, with that touch of reproof by which all good women remind man gently but daily that it is her part to suffer, his to misunderstand.
There followed a s.p.a.ce of happy silence, and then she said--
”Didn't I tell you that everything would come right if we waited?”
”Yes,” he admitted, ”that was one of your good guesses.”
She raised her delicate brows.
”Aren't you happy _now_?”
”Good heavens! I should think so.”
”Then be more grateful, dear,” she smiled.
Rapturously he confessed he had erred, and was even sufficiently in love to think he perceived how.
”I positively must go now,” she said in a little, and, despite his protestations, rose.
”Shall we walk?” he asked.
”Haven't you a cab call?”