The Gay
Lady was colouring so brilliantly that I feared the Skeptic might drop
the tray, for he was not looking at all where he was going. But she
disappeared into the pantry, and there was nothing left for him to do
but to place the tray on the shelf outside, ready for her to take the
contents in through the window.
* * * * *
The Gay Lady put me upon my own bed, tucked me up, drew the curtains,
and left me to my nap. She left a kiss on my cheek also, and as she
dropped it there I thought of the Skeptic again--I don't know why. I
wondered casually what he would give for one like it.
When I awoke my room was so nearly dark that I was startled into
thinking it next morning. The Lad's voice, speaking eagerly through my
door, was what had roused me. He was summoning me to dinner. "It's all
ready," he was calling.
I dressed dazedly, refreshed and wondering. I went down to preside at
the most delicious meal I had eaten in a month. The Gay Lady--in white
muslin, with cheeks like roses--seemed not in the least fatigued.
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