He started back, nearly dropping the coffee-pot, and managed to scramble to his feet, coffee-pot in hand, conscious that he had flushed as if caught in some illicit act. This girl certainly had a curious habit of appearing at odd and dramatic moments.
"I was looking to see if it was coffee for one or coffee for two," he explained.
She looked at him gravely, obviously a little puzzled; then, catching sight of the two cups upon the tray, she smiled.
"How stupid of him," she said, "and you've waited?" Her eyebrows were lifted in interrogation.
"I was just investigating," said Beresford, feeling more at ease now that he was able to explain. "It was a sort of game. If there was enough only for one, I would ignore the second cup; if for two, I would wait."
She smiled again and sank into the chair on the opposite side of the fire, holding out her hands to the blaze.
Beresford stood looking down at her, the coffee-pot still in his hand.
She seemed entirely to have forgotten his presence. She certainly was a most amazing creature, he decided; but that was no reason why he should be done out of his coffee.
"Do you take it black or with milk?" he enquired in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I'm so sorry," she cried, looking at him with a start, "I—I"
