"I ought to have one of my old gowns on," she half murmured, glancing down at the pale-blue silk robe she wore, "I am too fine to spin!"
And she almost laughed as the wheel flew round swiftly under her graceful manipulations. Listening to its whirr, whirr, whirr, she scarcely heard a sudden knock at the street-door, and was quite startled when the servant, Morris, announced--"Sir Francis Lennox!"
Surprised, she rose from her seat at the spinning-wheel with a slight air of hauteur. Sir Francis, who had never in his life seen a lady of title and fashion in London engaged in the primitive occupation of spinning, was entirely delighted with the picture before him,--the tall, lovely woman with her gold hair and shimmering blue draperies, standing with such stateliness beside the simple wooden wheel, the antique emblem of household industry. Instinctively he thought of Marguerite;--but Marguerite as a crowned queen, superior to all temptations of either man or fiend.
"Sir Philip is out," she said, as she suffered him to take her hand.
"So I was aware!" returned Lennox easily. "I saw him a little while ago at the door of the Brilliant Theatre."
She turned very pale,--then controlling the rapid beating of her heart by a strong effort, she forced a careless smile, and said bravely-"Did you? I am very glad--for he will have some amusement there, perhaps, and that will do him good. He has been working so hard!"
She paused. He said nothing, and she went on more cheerfully still-"Is it not a very dismal, wet evening! Yes!--and you must be cold. Will you have some tea?"
"Tha-anks!" drawled Sir Francis, staring at her admiringly. "If it's not too much trouble--"
"Oh no!" said Thelma. "Why should it be?" And she rang the bell and gave the order. Sir Francis sank lazily back in an easy chair, and stroked his moustache slowly. He knew that his random hit about the theatre had struck home,--but she allowed the arrow to pierce and possibly wound her heart without showing any outward sign of discomposure. "A plucky woman!" he considered, and wondered how he should make his next move. She, meanwhile, smiled at him frankly, and gave a light twirl to her spinning-wheel.
"You see!" she said, "I was amusing myself this evening by imagining that I was once more at home in Norway."
"Pray don't let me interrupt the amusement," he responded, with a sleepy look of satisfaction shooting from beneath his eyelids. "Go on spinning, Lady Errington! . . . I've never seen any one spin before."