“I am not,” Jacob replied firmly. “I have wired for my own car.”
“Race you up for a tenner, old bean,” Felixstowe suggested promptly.
“I wouldn’t imperil Lady Mary’s existence,” Jacob replied,—“that is, unless she rode with me.”
“No fear,” the young man scoffed. “Mary would never desert the old tin kettle, as you call it.”
“I rather like the smoothness of a Rolls-Royce,” she murmured.
Over dinner that evening, their adventures in New York were recounted at length. It was not until her brother had wandered out to get some cigarettes, however, that Lady Mary referred to the subject which all three seemed to have been avoiding.
“It must have been rather a shock to you, I am afraid, to meet Captain and Mrs. Penhaven on the steamer,” she remarked sympathetically.
“I thought it was going to be,” he admitted. “It didn’t turn out that way.”
“Are you very broken-hearted?”