"I caught sight of you in Spearman's car somewhere about one o'clock in the morning. Did he drive you home?"
"I guess he did, dear boy," said Belle, blandly, "and by the way, we saw you, going in to supper somewhere with a girl with a Vogue face and an open-air back!"
Graham laughed. "That's different," he said. "Spearman isn't the sort of man I care to see my sister going about with alone. I advise you to be a little more fastidious."
"Thank you, Graham darling," said Belle, quite un-moved, "but I'm old enough to choose my own friends without your butting in. Just for fun, would you tell me what you know about the word fastidious?"
"That's different," said Graham again. And he went up-stairs to his own room with rather heavy feet.
Belle looked at Betty and a little smile curled up the corners of her beautiful red mouth. "I don't see anything wrong with Harry Spearman, and he's an old friend of the Delanos. My word, but isn't Graham a good sport?"
Presently when they went into the drawing-room they found little Mrs. Guthrie sitting in front of the table with a more than usually happy smile, and Ethel lying on the sofa looking the very epitome of an interesting invalid. With a slightly critical frown on her pretty face she was reading Wells's latest novel,—a full-blooded effort well calculated to improve the condition of a girl of fifteen who had not gone back to school on account of anæmia.
With quick intuition, and one glance at her mother's face, Belle knew she had heard from Peter. "Any news?" she asked eagerly.
"Yes, darling,—the very best of news. A Marconi from my boy," said Mrs. Guthrie.
"What does he say?"