"I couldn't well come with somebody else's spine," murmured Margot, finding relief in the small witticism, which she took care that Mrs. Claughton should not hear.
"However, Dolly of course will stay another hour or two. Dolly need not go yet."
"Dolly seems tired to-day."
"Dolly tired! She wants another game of tennis; that is all," said Mrs. Claughton energetically. "Nonsense, Dolly!" as a little hand came out. "My dear, I am not going to say good-bye to you yet. Where is Edred?"
Dolly dropped her hand, and turned away, keeping close to Margot. Outside the group, she said pitifully, in an undertone, "I must go! I can't stay!"
"Yes, dear,—if you are quite sure."
"Please take me home. And don't tell Issy."
Margot made no answer beyond an indefinite sound of assent. She knew that Dolly had reached her utmost extent of endurance. A word more might prove too much.
The pony-chaise waited at the front door, so there was no delay in getting off. Neither spoke on the way home—a short distance, though often too much for Margot to walk. Near Woodlands, Margot leant forward, and said to the boy—
"You need not go up to the door. Stop at the little side-gate."