"When did you get this marvellous idea into that wonderful brain of yours, Max?
I intended to go to Warehold myself to-morrow." She spoke with her usual good-humor, but with a slight trace of surprise and disappointment in her tone.
"When I opened my mail this morning; but my going won't make any difference about Warehold.

Bones and the groom will take care of you." Lucy leaned back in her chair and looked over the rail of the porch.
She had noticed lately a certain restraint in Max's manner which was new to her.

Whether he was beginning to get bored, or whether it was only one of his moods, she could not decide--even with her acute knowledge of similar symptoms.

That some change, however, had come over him she had not the slightest doubt.

She never had any trouble in lassoing her admirers.