'Geoffrey _must_ have powers of persuasion, to get that old Covenanter to let you come in an abhorred motor-car, on Sunday, too!'
Jean pursed her red lips and put up a cautionary finger with a droll little air of alarm.
'Grandfather didn't know!' she half whispered.
'I honestly meant to come by train,' she hastened to exculpate herself. 'Geoffrey met me on my way to the station. We had the most glorious run! Oh, Aunt Ellen, we're so happy!' She pressed her cheek against Lady John's shoulder. 'I've so looked forward to having you to myself the whole day just to talk to you about----'
Lord John turned away with affected displeasure. 'Oh, very well----'
She jumped up and caught him affectionately by the arm. '_You'd_ find it dreffly dull to hear me talk about Geoffrey the whole blessed day!'
'Well, till luncheon, my dear----' Lady John had risen with a glance at the clock. 'You mustn't mind if I----' She broke off and went to the writing-table, saying aside to her husband, 'I'm beginning to feel a little anxious; Miss Levering wasn't only tired last night, she was ill.'
'I thought she looked very white,' said Lord John.
'Oh, dear! Have you got other people?' demanded the happy egoist.
'One or two. Your uncle's responsible for asking that old cynic, St. John Greatorex, and I'm responsible for----'
Jean stopped in the act of taking off her long gloves. 'Mr. Greatorex! He's a Liberal, isn't he?' she said with sudden gravity.
'Little Jean!' Lord John chuckled, 'beginning to "think in parties!"'
'It's very natural now that she should----'
'I only meant it was odd he should be _here_. Of course I'm not so silly----'
'It's all right, my child,' said her uncle, kindly. 'We naturally expect now that you'll begin to think like Geoffrey Stonor, and to feel like Geoffrey Stonor, and to talk like Geoffrey Stonor. And quite proper, too!'
'Well,'--Jean quickly recovered her smiles--'if I _do_ think with my husband, and feel with him--as of course I shall--it will surprise me if I ever find myself talking a tenth as well!' In her enthusiasm she followed her uncle to the French window. 'You should have heard him at Dutfield.' She stopped short. 'The Freddy Tunbridges!' she exclaimed, looking out into the garden. A moment later her gay look fell. 'What? Not Aunt Lydia! Oh-h!' She glanced back reproachfully at Lady John, to find her making a discreet motion of 'I couldn't help it!' as the party from the garden came in.