"How did you come out?" she asked eagerly, facing me. "You look your
natural self--not tired or worried--so it must have been not so bad as you
feared."
"If our friend Langdon hadn't slipped away, I might not look and feel so
comfortable," said I. "His brother blundered, and there was no one to
checkmate my moves." She seemed nearer to me, more in sympathy with me than
ever before.
"I can't tell you how glad I am!"
Her eyes were wide and bright, as from some great excitement, and her color
was high. Once my attention was on it, I knew instantly that only some
extraordinary upheaval in that household could have produced the fever that
was blazing in her. Never had I seen her in any such mood as this.
"What is it?" I asked. "What has happened?"
"If anything disagreeable should be said or done this evening here," she
said, "I want you to promise me that you'll restrain yourself, and not say
or do any of those things that make me--that jar on me. You understand?"
"I am always myself," replied I. "I can't be anybody else."
"But you are--several different kinds of self," she insisted. "And
please--this evening don't be _that_ kind. It's coming into your eyes
and chin now.
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