His cheeks were still flushed, his eyes brilliant.
Then Sylvia roused herself.

"Nothing is the matter," she replied, irritably, and immediately she became so gay that had Henry himself been in his usual mood he would have been as much astonished as by her depression.

Sylvia began talking and laughing, relating long stories of new discoveries which she had made in the house, planning for Horace Allen's return.
"He's going to have that big southwest room and the little one out of it," Sylvia said.

"To-morrow you must get the bed moved into the little one, and I'll get the big room fixed up for a study.

He'll be tickled to pieces.