At lunch, "Chetwode," said Felicity, "I shall be at Vera's till seven. They're going to have the wonderful new child harpist. He looks like a sort of cherub, with golden hair."
"Little beast," said Chetwode, "he ought to be in bed."
"Oh, darling, not at four in the afternoon! And what about to-night? I suppose we dine together at home? and then I'm going to Jasmyn Vere's, one of his musical parties."
"Oh, yes."
"Chetwode dear, you know the horses will be out all the afternoon. I thought I'd have the carriage just to take me to the party and come home in a cab—it's only round the corner. Is there any off-chance of your coming to fetch me? Oh do! You really might!"
"No," said Chetwode. He added, "No doubt Wilton will see you home."
She looked up quickly. Was there a tone of irony in his voice? Could he be a shade jealous? How delightful!
"Why, I can come home alone," she said. "It's not sure that Bertie and I will both want to leave at the same time."
"But I should think it's on the cards," said Chetwode, rather coldly.
"No use bothering you to come?"