"That's too bad," Cornelia said maliciously, "for I don't consider Oliver's temper his best trait."
"No, nor do I; you omitted the finest virtue of the perfect American husband. What I admire most of all in Oliver is his sending you into the country for the summer—and his sublime confidence that he will get you back again in the fall."
"The quiet is nice here, isn't it?" she said; "but hadn't we better turn about? The sun is slipping into that indigo cloud-bank."
