"So shall I. We must put a white mark against it in our diaries."

"With white ink?"

"Of course. Black would never do, nor red, nor violet."

"But where shall we get it?"

"I'll make us some when I get home out of white cloud and lilies and
sunshine and a bit of the blue sky."

Laughter fluttered through her veins. Yesterday she had teasingly
boasted to Katherine that Austin was in love with her. Now she knew it.
He proclaimed it in a thousand ways. A note of exultation in his laugh,
like that in a blackbird's call, alone proclaimed it. Instinct told her
of harmless words she might use which would bring the plain avowal. But
the hour was too delicate. As yet nothing was demanded. All was given.
Her woman's vanity blossomed deliciously in the atmosphere of a man's
love. Her heart had not yet received the inevitable summons to respond.
She left it, careless in the gay hands of summer.

When they drew up before the front door of Ware House he lifted her from
the dog-cart and set her laughing on her feet.

"How strong you are," she cried.

"I'm not a giant, like Dick," said he, "but I'm strong enough to do what
I like with a bit of a thing like you."

She entered the hall and glanced at him provokingly over her shoulder.