"Couldn't you?" she exclaimed. "It would be such fun!"
Burton shook his head.
"Nothing but the truth," he declared sadly.
Mr. Bomford, without his motoring outfit, was still an unprepossessing figure. He wore a pince-nez; his manner was fussy and inclined to be a little patronizing. He had the air of an unsuccessful pedagogue. He was obviously regarding Burton with a new interest. During tea-time he conversed chiefly with Edith, who seemed a little nervous, and answered most of his questions with monosyllables. Burton and the professor were silent. Burton was watching Edith and the professor was watching Burton. As soon as the meal was concluded, the professor rose to his feet.
"Edith, my dear," he said, "we wish you to leave us for a minute or two.
Mr. Bomford and I have something to say to Mr. Burton."
Edith, with a slight shrug of the shoulders, rose to her feet. She caught a glance from Burton and turned at once to her fiancé.
"Am I to be taken for a ride this evening?" she asked.
"A little later on, by all means, my dear Edith," Mr. Bomford declared. "A little later on, certainly. Your father has kindly invited me to stay and dine. It will give me very much pleasure. Perhaps we could go for a short distance in—say three-quarters of an hour's time?"
Edith went slowly back to the house. Burton watched her disappear. The professor and Mr. Bomford drew their chairs a little closer. The professor cleared his throat.
"Mr. Burton," he began, "Mr. Bomford and I have a proposition to lay before you. May I beg for your undivided attention?"