A covert glance at her face, as he walked beside her, showed him that she had not expected his ready assent to that proposition.
“Then are you going to be always there, Mr. Rokesmith?” she inquired, as if that would be a drawback.
“Always? No. Very much there? Yes.”
“Dear me!” drawled Bella, in a tone of mortification.
“But my position there as Secretary, will be very different from yours as guest. You will know little or nothing about me. I shall transact the business: you will transact the pleasure. I shall have my salary to earn; you will have nothing to do but to enjoy and attract.”
“Attract, sir?” said Bella, again with her eyebrows raised, and her eyelids drooping. “I don’t understand you.”
Without replying on this point, Mr. Rokesmith went on.
“Excuse me; when I first saw you in your black dress—”
(“There!” was Miss Bella’s mental exclamation. “What did I say to them at home? Everybody noticed that ridiculous mourning.”)
“When I