I wonder if you really do!"
She started to say something, hesitated, blushed, then their hands parted, and she answered lightly:
"What a very cordial welcome for a business girl on a horrid day! You mustn't spoil me, Mr. Desboro."
"I was afraid you might not come," he said; and indiscreet impulse prompted her to answer, as she had first answered him there on the platform two weeks ago:
"Do you suppose that mere weather could have kept me away from the famous Desboro collection?"
The charming malice in her voice, the delightful impertinence of her reply, so obviously at variance with fact, enchanted him. She was conscious of its effect on him, and, already slightly excited, ventured to laugh at her own thrust as though challenging his self-conceit to believe that she had even grazed herself with the two-edged weapon.
"Do I count for absolutely nothing?" he said.
"Do you flatter yourself that I returned to see you?"
"Let me believe it for just one second."
"I don't doubt that you will secretly and triumphantly believe it all the time."
"If I dared – "
"Is that sort of courage lacking in you, Mr. Desboro? I have heard otherwise. And how long are we going to remain here on this foggy platform?"
Here was an entirely new footing; but in the delightful glow of youthful indiscretion she still maintained her balance lightly, mockingly.
"Please tell me," she said, as they entered the car, and he drew the big fur robe around her, "just how easily you believe in your own overpowering attractions. Do women encourage you in such modest faith in yourself? Or are you merely created that way?"
"The house has been a howling wilderness without you," he said. "I admit my loneliness, anyway."
"I admit nothing. Besides, I wasn't."
"Is that true?"
She laughed tormentingly, eyes and cheeks brilliant, now undisguisedly on guard – her first acknowledgment that in this man she condescended to divine the hereditary adversary.
"I mean to punish," said her eyes.
"What an attack from a clear sky on a harmless young man," he said, at last.
"No, an attack from the fog on an insufferable egoist – an ambush, Mr. Desboro. And I thought a little sword-play might do your complacent wits a service. Has it?"
"But you begin by a dozen thrusts, then beat down my guard, and cuff me about with blade and pommel – "
"I had to. Now, does your vanity believe that my return to Silverwood was influenced by your piteous appeal over the wire – and your bad temper, too?"
"No," he said solemnly.
"Well, then! I came here partly to put my notes in better shape for Mr. Sissly, partly to clear up odds and ends and leave him a clear field to plow – in your persistent company," she added, with such engaging malice that even the name of Sissly, which he hated, made him laugh.
"You won't do that," he said confidently.
"Do what, Mr. Desboro?"
"Turn me over to anything named Sissly."
"Indeed, I will – you and your celebrated collection! Of course you could go South, but, judging from your devotion to the study of ancient armour – "
"You don't mean it, do you?"
"What? About your devotion?"
"No, about Sissly."
"Yes, I do. Listen to me, Mr. Desboro. I made up my mind that sleighing, and skating, and luncheon and tea, and —you, are not good for a busy girl's business career. I'm going to be very practical and very frank with you. I don't belong here except on business, and you make it so pleasant and unbusinesslike for me that my conscience protests. You see, if the time I now take to lunch with you, tea with you, skate, sleigh, talk, listen, in your very engaging company is properly employed, I can attend to yards and yards of business in town. And I'm going to. I mean it, please," as he began to smile.
His smile died out. He said, quietly:
"Doesn't our friendship count for anything?"
She looked at him; shrugged her shoulders:
"Oh, Mr. Desboro," she said pleasantly, "does it, really?"
The blue eyes were clear and beautiful, and a little grave; only the upcurled corners of her mouth promised anything.
The car drew up at the house; she sprang out and ran upstairs to her room. He heard her in animated confab with Mrs. Quant for a few minutes, then she came down in her black business gown, with narrow edges of lawn at collar and cuffs, and the bright lock already astray on her cheek. A white carnation was tucked into her waist; the severe black of her dress, as always, made her cheeks and lips and golden hair more brilliant by contrast.
"Now," she said, "for my notes. And what are you going to do while I'm busy?"
"Watch you, if I may. You've heard about the proverbial cat?"
"Care killed it, didn't it?"
"Yes; but it had a good look at the Queen first."
A smile touched her eyes and lips – a little wistfully.
"You know, Mr. Desboro, that I like to waste time with you. Flatter your vanity with that confession. And even if things were – different – but they couldn't ever be – and I must work very hard if I'm ever going to have any leisure in my old age. But come to the library for this last day, and smoke as usual. And you may talk to amuse me, if you wish. Don't mind if I'm too busy to answer your folly in kind."
They went together to the library; she placed the mass of notes in front of her and began to sort them – turned for a second and looked around at him with adorable malice, then bent again to the task before her.
"Miss Nevers!"
"Yes?"
"You will come to Silverwood again, won't you?"
She wrote busily with a pencil.
"Won't you?"
She made some marginal notes and he looked at the charming profile in troubled silence.
About ten minutes later she turned leisurely, tucking up the errant strand of hair with her pencil:
"Did you say anything recently, Mr. Desboro?"
"Out of the depths, yes. The voice in the wilderness as usual went unheeded. I wished to explain to you how we might give up our skating and sleighing and everything except the bare necessities – and you could still come to Silverwood on business – "
"What are the 'bare necessities'?"
"Your being here is one – "
"Answer me seriously, please."
"Food,
