She was keenly aware of the reason for his enthusiasm.

He was so different from Harold, so healthy and out-of-doorish, so able.

To-day Harold had been in tantrums over fate, life, his lack of success.
"Oh, I shouldn't complain so much if I were you," she had said to him, bitterly.

"You might work harder and storm less." This had produced a scene which she had escaped by going for a walk.
Almost at the very moment when she had returned Aileen had appeared.
It was a way out.
She had cheered up, and accepted, dressed.

So had Sohlberg.