The women of his own world very often used them in fun, but Tita used them in earnest: that made all the difference.
And yet--he was sorry that he had vexed her.

It kept him sleepless an hour almost, dwelling upon this, and even in the morning, when he awoke, it was the first thought that assailed him.
* * * * * It is in truth a lovely morning.

Sweet as June, and fresh as "Fresh May." Rylton, whilst dressing, tells himself he wishes to goodness he had been clever enough to make it up with his wife before going to bed last night.

Nothing so horrid as little coldnesses, little bickerings before one's guests--and Tita is so untutored that probably she will make it rather unbearable for him during breakfast.
He has underrated Tita, however.

She is almost the first down, and gets through the morning salutations to her guests in the gayest style, and takes possession of the teapot and the huge old urn quite calmly.