They went down the populous steps.
"Oh, Mr. Barrison!" exclaimed a woman upon whom he nearly trod. "What ecstasy you have given us!"
It was Miss Emerson. She was cooling off from a dance with Mr. Pratt, and was in high feather, because neither he nor Mr. Evans knew another woman present, save Veronica, and her acquaintance, though not wide, seemed intensive.
"Yes, that was corking," said Mr. Evans. "We sure do thank you. Say, folks, I'm tired. I'm going to trot along."
"Back to the Inn?" asked Philip with interest.
"Yes. Anything I can do for you?"
"If you will be so kind. Mrs. Wilbur has just gone. Will you be kind enough to tell her not to worry if her daughter is a little later than she expected? Tell her you left her in good hands and we are going to walk up after a while."
"Certainly. Be glad to," replied Evans.
"Oh," breathed Diana, softly, as they moved on into the glory of the night, "I'm quite sure you should not have done that."
"Do you want to be shut up in a tin Lizzie to-night?"