“Cecily?” I questioned.
“Yes—she takes it to heart more than you’d believe. But she’ll get over it in a day or two.”
“When does she leave?”
“In the morning early, by the fruit boat. And, by the way, I want you to go down with me to see her off. She’ll appreciate it.”
“Why, certainly—but isn’t it rather sudden?”
“In a way, yes. You see, I’ve arranged for a committee from New York to go down to Martinique and look over the ground, and I want to take them before they have a chance to cool off. I’ve got to get my house there in order and engage some servants, for that will be our headquarters, and if Cecily doesn’t leave by the boat tomorrow, she can’t go for ten days. Ten days from now I’m going to have the committee ready to sail, and when I get them to Martinique, I’m going to give them a sample of Creole hospitality. I wish you could come,” he added warmly. “I’d like to have you.”
“There’s nothing I’d like better,” I said, suddenly conscious of how I had slandered him in my thoughts. “But I fear it isn’t possible just now.”
“Well, some day I shall have you there, and I warn you I shan’t let you go in a hurry. Come in,” he added, in response to a knock at the door.
Two waiters entered, and in a moment the dinner was served.
“That will do,” said Tremaine, pressing a coin into the hand of each of them. “We’ll attend to ourselves. Send up in an hour for the dishes. I thought that
