My gloomier
reflections were at once forgotten. It was Eve who spoke.
"Good morning, Mr. Walmsley!"
"Good morning, Miss Eve!" I replied.
"Are you very busy this morning?" she asked.
"Nothing in the world to do!" I answered promptly.
"Then please come round," she directed, ringing off almost at once.
I was there in ten minutes. The hall porter, who had not yet completed his
morning toilet, conducted me upstairs. In the morning sunlight the whole
appearance of the place seemed shabbier and dirtier than ever. Inside the
sitting room, however, everything was different. My own flowers had
apparently been supplemented by many others. Mr. Parker, as pink-and-white
as usual, looking the very picture of content and good digestion, was
smoking a large cigar and reading a newspaper. Eve was seated at the
writing table, but she swung round at my entrance and held out both her
hands.
"The flowers are lovely!" she murmured. "Do go and sit down--and talk to
daddy while I finish this letter."
I shook hands with Mr. Parker. He laid down the newspaper and smiled at
me.
"A pleasant dinner last night, I trust?" I inquired.
His eyes twinkled.
"Most humorous affair!" he declared. "I wouldn't have missed it for
worlds.
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