Jacob hesitated for a moment, but Lady Mary’s smile so obviously included him that he ventured to remain. They crossed the lawn and found an empty table within hearing of the band. Jacob ordered strawberries and cream, ice cream and champagne cup with reckless prodigality. The girl laughed softly.
“How deliciously greedy it all sounds,” she murmured, “and how much nicer this is than that stuffy box!—Jack!”
Felixstowe, however, was on his feet, waving to some one in the distance.
“There’s Nat Pooley!” he exclaimed. “Knows every winner to a cert. I’ve been looking for him all day. Look after my sister, Pratt, old thing.”
He dived into the crowd and disappeared. Lady Mary smiled at her companion.
“I am foist upon you, Mr. Pratt,” she said.
“I am very much the gainer,” he assured her. “I was feeling unusually lonely when I met your brother.”
“Well, I’ve had rather a stuffy time of it myself,” she acknowledged. “You see, I have on a new dress, and mother was afraid it was going to rain. And then Jack deserted us, and there was no one for me to come out with. How do you like my frock, Mr. Pratt?”
“I think you look nicer than any one I’ve seen here,” Jacob replied sincerely.