It seemed obvious that Mr. Lanley should take the Waynes home in his car. Mrs. Wayne, who had prepared for walking with overshoes and with pins for her trailing skirt, did not seem too enthusiastic at the suggestion. She stood a moment on the step and looked at the sky, where Orion, like a banner, was hung across the easterly opening of the side street.
“It’s a lovely night,” she said.
It was Pete who drew her into the car. Her reluctance deprived Mr. Lanley of the delight of bestowing a benefit, but gave him a faint sense of capture.
In the drawing-room Mathilde was looking from one to the other of her natural guardians, like a well-trained puppy who wants to be fed. She wanted Pete praised. Instead, Adelaide said:
“Really, papa is growing too secretive! Do you know, Vin, he and Mrs. Wayne quarreled like mad last evening, and he never told me a word about it!”
“How do you know?”
“Oh, I heard them trying to smooth it out at dinner.”
“O Mama,” wailed Mathilde, between admiration and complaint, “you hear everything!”
“Certainly, I do,” Adelaide returned lightly. “Yes, and I heard you, too, and understood everything that you meant.”
Vincent couldn’t help smiling at his stepdaughter’s horrified look.