"Certainly, Jenny, take what you like," said Joan, and she draped the curtains across the window.
"Thank you, miss."
Jenny chose a book from the case upon the table and without a glance at Joan or at the window, went out of the room again. Joan watched her go. After all, what had Jenny seen? A girl whose home was there, drawing the curtains close. That was all. Joan shook her anxiety off. Jenny had left the door of the library open and some one came running down the stairs whistling as she ran. Miranda Brown dashed into the room struggling with a pair of gloves.
"Oh, how I hate gloves in this weather!" she cried. "Well, here I am, Joan. You wanted to speak to me before the others had finished powdering their noses. What is it?"
"I want you to help me."
"Of course I will," Miranda answered cheerily. "How?"
Joan closed the door and returned to Miranda, who, having drawn the gloves over her arm, was now struggling with the buttons.
"I want you, when we reach Harrel——"
"Yes."
"To lend me your motor-car for an hour."