What do you say to a drive out
to Kew and Richmond? You may not get another day like this all winter.
It's like a fine April day at home. May I use your telephone? I want to
order the carriage."
"Oh, how jolly! There, sit down at the desk. And while you are
telephoning I'll change my dress. I shan't be long. All the morning
papers are on the table."
Hilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a
broad fur hat.
Bartley rose and inspected her. "Why don't you wear some of those pink
roses?" he asked.
"But they came only this morning, and they have not even begun to open.
I was saving them. I am so unconsciously thrifty!" She laughed as she
looked about the room. "You've been sending me far too many flowers,
Bartley. New ones every day. That's too often; though I do love to open
the boxes, and I take good care of them."
"Why won't you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are
so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures."
Hilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass.
"No, there are some things you can't do. There's the carriage. Will you
button my gloves for me?"
Bartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove.
"How gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda."
"That's because I've been studying. It always stirs me up a little."
He pushed the top of the glove up slowly. "When did you learn to take
hold of your parts like that?"
"When I had nothing else to think of.
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