Part 34 (1/2)

”Then upon my word, I don't see that we've to take any att.i.tude at all.

I don't see that we've to regard him in one way or the other. It quite remains for him to make the first move.”

As if they had been talking of nothing but dress before, Mrs. Erwin asked: ”Do you think I look better in this black mexicaine, or would you wear your ecru?”

”I think you look very well in this. But why--He isn't going to propose to you, I hope?”

”I must have on something decent to receive him in. What time does the train from Trieste get in?”

”At three o'clock.”

”It's one, now. There's plenty of time, but there isn't any too much.

I'll go and get Lydia ready. Or perhaps you'll tap on her door, Henshaw, and send her here. Of course, this is the end of her voice,--if it is the end.”

”It's the end of having an extraordinarily pretty girl in the house.

I don't at all like it, you know,--having her whisked away in this manner.”

Mrs. Erwin refused to let her mind wander from the main point. ”He'll be round as soon as he can, after he arrives. I shall expect him by four, at the latest.”

”I fancy he'll stop for his dinner before he comes,” said Mr. Erwin.

”Not at all,” retorted his wife, haughtily. And with his going out of the room, she set her face in a resolute cheerfulness, for the task of heartening Lydia when she should appear; but it only expressed misgiving when the girl came in with her yachting-dress on. ”Why, Lydia, shall you wear that?”

Lydia swept her dress with a downward glance.

”I thought I would wear it. I thought he--I should seem--more natural in it. I wore it all the time on the s.h.i.+p, except Sundays. He said--he liked it the best.”

Mrs. Erwin shook her head. ”It wouldn't do. Everything must be on a new basis now. He might like it; but it would be too romantic, wouldn't it, don't you think?” She shook her head still, but less decisively. ”Better wear your silk. Don't you think you'd better wear your silk? This is very pretty, and the dark blue does become you, awfully. Still, I don't know--_I_ don't know, either! A great many English wear those careless things in the house. Well, _wear_ it, Lydia! You _do_ look perfectly killing in it. I'll tell you: your uncle was going to ask you to go out in his boat; he's got one he rows himself, and this is a boating costume; and you know you could time yourselves so as to get back just right, and you could come in with this on--”

Lydia turned pale. ”Oughtn't I--oughtn't I--to be here?” she faltered.

Her aunt laughed gayly. ”Why, he'll ask for _me_, Lydia.”

”For you?” asked Lydia, doubtfully.

”Yes. And I can easily keep him till you get back. If you're here by four--”

”The train,” said Lydia, ”arrives at three.”

”How did you know?” asked her aunt, keenly.

Lydia's eyelids fell even lower than their wont.

”I looked it out in that railroad guide in the parlor.”

Her aunt kissed her. ”And you've thought the whole thing out, dear, haven't you? I'm glad to see you so happy about it.”

”Yes,” said the girl, with a fluttering breath, ”I have thought it out, and _I believe him_. I--” She tried to say something more, but could not.