"Of course you do. All that, being translated, means, I adore my Ellen."
Christabel had asked Ellen to go to the Farm with Nick and herself, that day. She was careful to include Ellen when she and Nick did anything together. Even when they talked together she would break off to ask, smiling, "What does Ellen think?" And Ellen, lost in the sound of Nick's voice, the look of the sleek back of his head, that made the palm of her hand ache to stroke it, would feel herself blushing, would laugh and stammer, and have to admit that she didn't even know what they were talking about. It was funny, she thought, that Christabel's kindness in including her was the only thing that had ever made her feel separated from Nick.
She hadn't gone with them today, after all, because Talbot Emery Towne had sent word he was going to England unexpectedly, and, before he sailed, wanted to see as much of Tear Stains on Taffeta as Christabel had written.
