to Europe; and I am so sure of my cause, in this case, that I am going to leave it to your mother to give you my reasons.”
She rose as she spoke, not with any sign of haste or embarrassment, but as if gracefully recognizing the desire of mother and son to be alone together; but Amherst, rising also, made a motion to detain her.
“No one else will be able to put your reasons half so convincingly,” he said with a slight smile, “and I am sure my mother would much rather be spared the attempt.”
Mrs. Ansell met the smile as freely as she had met the challenge. “My dear Lucy,” she rejoined, laying, as she reseated herself, a light caress on Mrs. Amherst’s hand, “I’m sorry to be flattered at your expense, but it’s not in human nature to resist such an appeal. You see,” she added, raising her eyes to Amherst, “how sure I am of myself—and of you, when you’ve heard me.”
“Oh, John is always ready to hear one,” his mother murmured innocently.
“Well, I don’t know that I shall even ask him to do as much as that—I’m so sure, after all, that my suggestion carries its explanation with it.”
There was a moment’s pause, during which Amherst let his eyes wander absently over the dissolving groups on the lawn.
“The suggestion that I should take Bessy to Europe?” He paused again. “When—next autumn?”
[ 171 ]
