"I think we shall miss you. Mr. Gayne is not a fair exchange."
"Thank you. Mrs. Lowell was talking to me about that outfit last evening. She is quite stirred up about the boy."
"Yes," rejoined Diana. "I think she is a wonderful woman. She has taken him down to the beach with her again this morning. She believes that Mr. Gayne is his nephew's enemy rather than his guardian. She believes he has some reason for desiring to blight any buddings of intelligence in the boy, and uses an outrageous method of suppression over him all the time. It would be so much easier to let it go, and most of us would, I'm sure, rather than spend vacation hours in such insipid company, or have any dealings with that—that impossible uncle; but Mrs. Lowell will not relinquish her efforts."
"Yes, she is a brilliant, fearless sort of woman," said Philip. "I shouldn't wonder if she gave Gayne a disagreeable quarter of an hour before she gets through with him."
"One has to exercise care, however," returned Diana, "lest the man become angered and visit his ill-humor on the boy. I am often obliged to constrain myself to civility when I yearn to hurl—" she hesitated.
"Plates? Oh, do say you long to throw a plate at him!"
Diana gave her remote moonbeam smile.
"I must admit that 'invective' was in my mind. A rather strong word for girls to use."
"A splendid word. A good long one, too. You might try hurling polysyllables at him some day and see him blink."
Diana shook her head. "That sort of man is a pachyderm. He would never flinch at verbal missiles. Since you must go, I wish some other agreeable man would join our group and converse with him at table."