"Mother," said Char in an agony, "it's simply impossible. The girl would never know her place in the office again; and think of all the cackling there'd be at the Questerham Hostel about my asking any one out to Plessing. Johnnie, do tell her it's out of the question."
Trevellyan looked at Joanna with a laugh in his blue eyes. He realized, as Char would never realize, that her assumption of officialdom always provoked her mother to the utterance of ironical threats which she had never the slightest intention of fulfilling.
She shrugged her shoulders slightly at her daughter's vehemence, and crossed over to where Grace Jones was putting on her coat and hat again.
"Good-night. I hope you're not as tired as you look," she said with a sort of abrupt graciousness.
"Oh no, thank you. It's been an extra busy night. It was so kind of you to help."
"I wish I could come again," said Lady Vivian rather wistfully, "but I don't know that I shall be able to."
Lesbia Willoughby, dashing past them at full speed, found time to fling a piercing rebuke over her shoulder.
"There's always a will where there's a way, Joanna. Look at me!"
Neither of them took advantage of the invitation, and Joanna said irrelevantly: "I should like you to come and see me, if you will, but I know you're at work all day. I must try and find you next time I come into Questerham."
"Thank you very much," said Grace in a pleased voice. "I should like that very much indeed. Good-night."