"Are you really going to motor her to Abergarry?" Napier demanded, after Miss Ellis' departure.
"Oh, you heard that!" Julian laughed. "We thought it was a secret."
"A secret? 'Oh, my, I'd love to see your home!'" he mimicked. "'And is it really three hundred years old? Oh, my!'"
"Look here, Gavan," Julian stopped short in the middle of the moonlit road—"don't say you aren't going to like her."
"I don't see my way not to liking her," he said grudgingly, "but I felt to-night, if she said, 'Oh, my,' again, I should probably wring her neck."
"What's wrong with it? Bless my soul! It's harmless enough. Some of our up-to-date young women swear."
"Oh, if you don't mind, I suppose I must put up with it. But, I say, you aren't going to take her alone to Abergarry, are you?"
"Why not?" Julian was smiling. "Do you want to come?"
"I was only thinking," Napier said, "it was rather marked, your not including the von Schwarzenberg."
"Why should we always have to lug that German woman along?" The question came out with uncommon rancor.