Alice wanted another moonlight talk about the baby, and knew the small
chance of getting it where Deborah Pennycuick was, and she raised
obstacles, fighting for delay. Deborah calmly turned to Jim.

"Anything to hinder your coming this afternoon, Jim?"

"Nothing," said Mr Urquhart promptly.

The matter was evidently settled.

They sat down to lunch, and the talk was brisk. It was almost confined
to the visitor and Alice, although the former carefully avoided the
shutting out of the hostess from the conversation, in which she was
incapable of taking a brilliant part. Jim, in the host's place, sat
dumb and still, except for his alertness in anticipating his guest's
little wants. Guthrie Carey, on her other hand, was equally silent.
Neither of the two men heard what she talked about for listening to the
mere notes of her charming voice.

After luncheon she put on her sensible straw hat.

"You must drive Mr Carey," she said to Jim. "I'll just ride ahead, and
let them know you are coming."

"Let us all go together," said Alice. "I'll drive Mr Carey, and Jim can
escort you."

But there was no gainsaying Deborah Pennycuick when she had expressed
her views.