Page:Middle Aged Love Stories (IA middleagedlove00bacorich).djvu/289



“Oh, Lizzie asked me not to do anything,” she said quietly. “She wanted me to enjoy myself with her friends. But I’m not used to so much society, and I don’t want to be any hinderance. I’m not so young as I used to be. I’d have liked the gayety well enough when I was a girl, but I guess it tires me a little now. There seems to be so much going on all the time. Lizzie says she’s resting, but it wouldn’t rest me. Do you find it so?”

He recalled his yesterday’s programme: driving a pulling team all the morning; carrying Mrs. Dud’s heavy bag over the links all the afternoon—she preferred her friends to caddies; prompting for the dramatics rehearsal, with a poor light, all the evening, while the actors gossiped and squabbled and flirted contentedly.

“It is not always restful,” he admitted.

“It makes my head ache,” she remarked placidly. “I like to see the girls enjoy themselves. I’m glad they’re