Her leading questions were beginning to reveal his blundering vacuity about labor conditions on the mountain, when Dorothy fluffed out. Her sharp eyes noticed at once his sheepish interest. "Jane's been boring you with a discussion of the labor question, foreign and domestic, I'm sure! I can't convert her. She'll worm everything you know out of you in half an hour, I warn you."
Pelham agreed, a bit chagrined. "Yes.... She was just telling me what I didn't know about my men."
Jane's lips curved open into a smile, friendly and somehow approving. "You'll learn, I think."
Dorothy yawned in intimate boredom, "An apt pupil, no doubt.... I thought this was the day of the great fête, Pelham."
"It is," he smiled. "They are at this moment enjoying lemonade and lettuce sandwiches."
Dorothy looked puzzled; Jane's cheeks crinkled appreciatively.
The older woman turned to the girl with ruffled rudeness. "Stay on for supper, Jeanne?"
The other shook her head. "I must run along. Choir practice to-night," with a mischievous dimple.
"Religious all of a sudden?"
"The rector flourishes in my spiritual presence."