"It's a little surprising," began Jessie, vaguely.
"Think it over," said Mr. Hoopdriver. "I'm sorry from the bottom
of my heart."
And then breakfast proceeded in silence. Jessie ate very little,
and seemed lost in thought. Mr. Hoopdriver was so overcome by
contrition and anxiety that he consumed an extraordinarily large
breakfast out of pure nervousness, and ate his scrambled eggs for
the most part with the spoon that belonged properly to the
marmalade. His eyes were gloomily downcast. She glanced at him
through her eyelashes. Once or twice she struggled with laughter,
once or twice she seemed to be indignant.
"I don't know what to think," she said at last. "I don't know
what to make of you--brother Chris. I thought, do you know? that
you were perfectly honest. And somehow--"
"Well?"
"I think so still."
"Honest--with all those lies!"
"I wonder."
"I don't," said Mr. Hoopdriver. "I'm fair ashamed of myself. But
anyhow--I've stopped deceiving you."
"I THOUGHT," said the Young Lady in Grey, "that story of the
lion--"
"Lord!" said Mr. Hoopdriver. "Don't remind me of THAT."
"I thought, somehow, I FELT, that the things you said didn't ring
quite true." She suddenly broke out in laughter, at the
expression of his face. "Of COURSE you are honest," she said.
"How could I ever doubt it? As if _I_ had never pretended! I see
it all now."
Abruptly she rose, and extended her hand across the breakfast
things. He looked at her doubtfully, and saw the dancing
friendliness in her eyes.
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