"Why to-morrow?"
"Because—" She interrupted herself to go forward upon the flustered entrance of the hostess. Lady McIntyre's manner was that of the person so inured to being late that she got no good out of being on time. But to this manifestation Napier had long been accustomed. What mildly intrigued him was the manner of the girl. She had put on a different grace along with her evening gown. Her slower movements had even a touch of stateliness, as though to match the trailing elegance of embroidered chiffons.
"Come now, Miss Ellis," Sir William repeated, "why could you tell me more about your impressions after to-morrow?"
"Because Mr. Grant is going to show us a castle. And Greta has promised to take pictures of it. I suppose you know how splendid Greta is at taking pictures? You don't? Well, she's every bit as good as a professional."
"What castle?" Lady McIntyre asked. "Glenfallon?"
Miss von Schwarzenberg had come into the hall, with Madge clinging on her arm.
"We have some delightful foreigners at Glenfallon. Germans. We owe them a great debt of gratitude—" Every one there, except Miss Ellis, knew that Lady McIntyre was going on to tell, as she invariably did to each newcomer, the story of Frau Lenz and the providential result of taking her advice. No one knew better than Madge how this repetition bored and annoyed Miss Greta. When her mother had got as far as "debt of gratitude," Madge threw in the information that "the old man wore goggles! And goes scudding about the firth in the dead of night in a motor launch. Simply bogey, I call it!"
"It is bogey enough," said Miss Greta, gently, "to be nearly blind and not able to sleep."
Julian's entry did not disturb the group at the fire.
"If they're so kind, those Pforzheims, I wish," Miss Ellis went on, "they'd take us out in their launch some time."