"There is one
question," he said, "which I should very much like to ask you. It
will sound impertinent. I don't mean it so. I can't explain
exactly why I want to know, but I have a reason."
"Ask it by all means," she said. "I'll promise that I'll answer it
if I can."
"You say that you are - a journalist. Have you taken it up for a
pastime, or - to earn money?"
"To earn money by all means," she answered, laughing. "I like the
work, but I shouldn't care for it half so much if I didn't make my
living at it. Did you think that I was an amateur?"
"I didn't know," he answered slowly. "Thank you. You will come
to-morrow?"
"Of course! Good evening."
"Good evening."
Trent lifted his hat, and turned away unwillingly towards the house,
full of a sense that something wonderful had happened to him. He was
absent-minded, but he stopped to pat a little dog whose attentions he
usually ignored, and he picked a creamy-white rose as he crossed the
lawn and wondered why it should remind him of her.
CHAPTER X
Trent's appearance upon the lawn was greeted with a shout of
enthusiasm. The young lady in blue executed a pas seut, and came
across to him on her toes, and the girl with the yellow hair,
although sulky, gave him to understand by a sidelong glance that
her favour was not permanently withdrawn.
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