"This is good of you, Guy," she said, lifting her face for him to kiss, for Guy had the place of a nephew in Miss Lorraine's heart. "I thought we should see nothing of you whilst you had such a shooting-party at the Hall. What fine partridges! You must be having good sport."
"Pretty fair," replied the young man; "the birds are not so plentiful as last year; the wet spring thinned the broods. Still, we made tolerable bags yesterday."
"So it seems," said Miss Lorraine, eyeing the birds with admiration, and immediately beginning to plan a little supper-party, to which Mr. Glynne should be invited. "How good of you to remember me! But here is the coffee—come in and get your breakfast. You must need it after your drive."
"When are you and Aldyth coming to Wyndham again?" inquired Guy, as he helped himself to some of Miss Lorraine's excellent ham. "Uncle was saying yesterday what a time it was since we had seen you."
"Well, you see, Guy, we feel rather shy of coming whilst you have a house full of gentlemen," said Miss Lorraine. "You don't want ladies about when you are so busy with the shooting."
"You forget that we do not shoot in the evenings," replied Guy. "Why can't you and Aldyth come down to dinner one evening? I should like you to see Captain Walker and Marriott. Marriott's awfully fond of music, and sings well. You might ask the Blands to come with you, and then we could have quite a musical evening."
"Well, perhaps; I must think about it," said Miss Lorraine, dubiously. "But you must ask the Blands, Guy, not I."
"All right; that's easily managed," said Guy.
"Why should you not bring Captain Walker and young Marriott here one evening?" asked Miss Lorraine. "Then I would invite the Blands and Mr. Glynne to meet you."
"Who in the world is Mr. Glynne?" asked Guy, opening his eyes.