"You say that because Lady McIntyre asked you to."
"Not only for that reason."
Whereat Miss Greta lowered her eyes. "What should I do about Nan Ellis?" she said.
"Oh, we've thought of that. Mr. Grant will look after her while you and I—" he smiled. "Shall we say half-past five?"
The china-blue eyes turned to the open door and to the gaitered rotundity approaching—Sir William coming up from the stable. "Half-past five, then," she murmured. On her way to the schoolroom she caught up a book with the air of one who finds at last a boon long sought.
Sir William was inclined to be facetious over "catching you and the Incomparable One. I've always known the day would come...."
Instead of tackling the letters, he went on with his absurd chaffing.
"The fact is," Napier said, when he had shut the library door, "I've been wanting to say a word about this lady."
"What's up?" Sir William was still smiling roguishly.
"I'm thinking of the matter of the translation. Surely an official document of that description ought not to be in chance hands."