Page:The White Peacock, Lawrence, 1911.djvu/187

Rh turned to him, with a break in her voice, saying: “Oh, I am so sorry—I am so sorry.”

He said, very low and soft,—“Never mind—never mind.”

She heard the laughter of those preparing the charade. She drew away and went in the drawing room, saying aloud:

“Now I think everything is ready—we can sit down now.”

After the actors had played the last charade, Leslie came and claimed her.

“Now, Madam—are you glad to have me back?”

“That I am,” she said. “Don’t leave me again, will you?”

“I won’t,” he replied, drawing her beside him. “I have left my handkerchief in the dining-room,” he continued; and they went out together.

Mother gave me permission for the men to smoke.

“You know,” said Marie to Tom, “I am surprised that a scientist should smoke. Isn’t it a waste of time?”

“Come and light me,” he said.

“Nay,” she replied, “let science light you.”

“Science does—Ah, but science is nothing without a girl to set it going—Yes—Come on—now, don’t burn my precious nose.”

“Poor George!” cried Alice. “Does he want a ministering angel?”

He was half lying in a big arm chair.

“I do,” he replied. “Come on, be my box of soothing ointment. My matches are all loose.”

“I’ll strike it on my heel, eh? Now, rouse up, or I shall have to sit on your knee to reach you.”