"Were you asleep?"

He stretched his arms above his head, lazily.

"I believe I was!" he answered, smiling.

"And you wouldn't come in to tea!" This with a touch of annoyance.

"Oh yes, I would, if I had wanted tea," he replied--"but I didn't
want it."

"Nor my company, I suppose," she added, with a little shrug of her
shoulders. His eyes flashed mischievously.

"Oh, I daresay that had something to do with it!" he agreed.

A curious vexation fretted her. She wished he would not look so
handsome--and--yes!--so indifferent. An impression of loneliness
and desertion came over her--he, Robin, was not the same to her
now--so she fancied--no doubt he had been thinking hard all the
day while doing his work, and at last had come to the conclusion
that it was wisest after all to let her go and cease to care for
her as he had done. A little throbbing pulse struggled in her
throat--a threat of rising tears,--but she conquered the emotion
and spoke in a voice which, though it trembled, was sweet and
gentle.

"Robin," she said--"don't you think--wouldn't it be better--
perhaps--"