laying down the law again." She unpinned the violets and put them on the table. "Is that better?"
"You know it is. You are not in the least in love with Gresham. Why do you let him think you are?"
"I don't let him think it."
"You blushed when he spoke of Ciro's."
"Oh, that? I didn't blush because it was romantic, but because Bobby made me so conspicuous. He bought a basketful of violets, and everybody was looking at me . . . and I didn't like it."
"I should think not," Crispin said hotly.
"But I'm not going to talk about Bobby. Tell me about yourself, Crispin."
"There's nothing to tell except that I want to see you soon. A real visit—not just a snatched moment like this."
"Can you motor out with us tomorrow to Round Hill?"
He was radiant. "I'll say I can."
"Well, Sally and her mother are staying in town. There'll be just Aunt Anne and Daddy, and plenty of room in the car. We can have all Sunday to ourselves, with a ride on our horses and tea at Christopher's."
The invitation was not premeditated. But now that she had given it, Hildegarde had a sense of elation. "I'll tell Daddy not to ask any one else. I'm so tired of crowds."
He said boyishly, "You haven't changed a bit, although I thought so when I first saw you."
"What made you think that?"
"Oh, well, all the frills you took on in Paris, and your bobbed hair."
