“Oh, Roger, Barney was so sorry to have to miss you,” she said. And, at all events, whatever else Adrienne had spoiled, she had not spoiled Nancy’s loving smile for him. “He had to catch the 4.45 to Coldbrooks, you know. There’s a prize heifer arriving this evening and he must be there to welcome it. You must see his herd of Holsteins, Roger.” Friesians were, at that date, still Holsteins.
“I’d like to,” said Oldmeadow. “But I don’t know when I shall, for, to tell you the truth, I’ve not been asked to Coldbrooks this summer. The first time since I’ve known them.”
Nancy looked at him in silence.
“You’ll come to us, of course,” said Mrs. Averil.
“Do you really think I’d better, all things considered?” Oldmeadow asked.
“Why, of course you’d better. What possible reasons could there be for your not coming, except ones we don’t accept?”
“It won’t seem to range us too much in a hostile camp?”
“Not more than we’re ranged already. Nancy and I are not going to give you up, my dear Roger, because Adrienne considers herself a martyr.”
“I hope not, indeed. But it makes my exclusion from Coldbrooks more marked, perhaps, if I go to you. I imagine, though I am so much in her black books, that poor Mrs. Chadwick doesn’t want my exclusion to be marked.”
“You’re quite right there. You are in her black books; but she doesn’t want it marked; she’d like to have you, really, if Adrienne weren’t there and if she didn’t feel shy. And I really think it will make it easier for her if you come to us instead. It will tide it over a little. She’ll be almost able to feel you are with them. After all, you do come to us, often.”