Or are you seeing double?”
“At any rate, this one is rarely let.
Vacant for almost the first time, this spring.
And a perfect dream.
Usually loaned to friends.
But as for Mother and myself . . .”
“We now become the daughter of the regiment!”
“Well, so much for the colonel.
Then there’s Wilton Braithwaite Wriothesley, pronounced Rotisly, with the most perfect little mustache, and six feet tall, and . . .”
“Now, Bevy!
These intimacies!
I’m getting suspicious!”
“Not of Wilton!
Never, I swear!
The colonel, maybe, but not Wilton!” She giggled.
“Anyway, to make a long story five times as long, I already know of not only four houseboats along the Thames, but four perfectly appointed houses in or near the most exclusive residential squares of London, and all of them to be had for the season, or the year, or forever, if we should decide to stay here forever.”
“If you say so, darling,” interpolated Cowperwood.
“But what a little actress you are!”
“And all of them,” continued Berenice, ignoring his admiring comment, “if I should trouble to give my London address—which I haven’t as yet—will be shown to me by one or all of my admirers.”
“Bravo! My word!” exclaimed Cowperwood.
“But no commitments as yet, and no entanglements, either,” she added. “But Mother and I have agreed to look at one in Grosvenor Square and one in Berkeley Square, after which, well, we shall see what we shall see.”
“But don’t you think you’d better consult your aged guardian as to the contract and all that sort of thing?”
“Well, as to the contract, yes, but as to all else . . .”
“As to all else, I resign, and gladly.
I’ve done enough directing for one lifetime, and it will amuse me to see you try it.”
“Well, anyway,” she went on, quite impishly, “suppose you let me sit here,” and she seated herself in his lap, and reaching over to the table picked up the goblet of wine and proceeded to kiss the rim.
“See, I am wishing into it.” She then drank half.
“And now you wish,” she said, handing him the glass and watching him drink the remainder.
“And now you must throw it over my right shoulder against the wall, so that no one will ever drink out of it again.
It’s the way the Danes and the Normans did.
Now . . .”
And Cowperwood threw the glass.
“Now, kiss me, and it will all come true,” she said.
“For I am a witch, you know, and I make things come true.”
“I am prepared to believe that,” said Cowperwood affectionately, as he solemnly kissed her.
After dinner they discussed the matter of their immediate movements.
He found Berenice strongly against any plans for leaving England at this time.
It was spring, and she had always wanted to make a tour of the cathedral towns—Canterbury, York, Wells; visit the Roman baths at Bath; Oxford and Cambridge; and some of the old castles.
They could make the trip together, but only, of course, after he had looked into the possibilities which were confronting him in connection with this London project.
Incidentally, she would also like to inspect the cottages she had mentioned.
And then, once placed, they could immediately begin their holiday together.
And now he must go in to see her mother, who was a little upset and brooding these days, fearing she scarcely knew what for all of them.
And after that he was to come back to her, and then . . . and then . . .
Cowperwood gathered her up in his arms.
“Well, well, Minerva!” he said, “it may be possible to arrange things the way you want them.
I don’t know.
But one thing is sure: if there is too much of a hitch here, we’ll make a tour of the world.
I will arrange with Aileen somehow.
And if she won’t agree, well, then, we’ll go in spite of her.
The publicity she’s always threatening can probably be overcome in some fashion.