She looked at him with her clear eyes, unconscious of irony. "No. We wanted to buy a pair of gloves for someone for Christmas. And nice gloves cost such a lot, don't they? And we hadn't got more than tenpence-halfpenny among us. So I said I'd think of a plan to get more. And—that was the plan," ended Gracie, with her sweetest smile.
"I see," said Sir Beverley, with his eyes still fixed immovably upon her.
"And what made you come here?"
"Oh, we came here just because of Piers," said Gracie, without hesitation.
"You see, he's a great friend of ours."
"Is he?" said Sir Beverley. "And so you think you'll get what you can out of him, eh?"
"Sir!" said Piers sharply.
"Be quiet, Piers!" ordered his grandfather testily. "Who spoke to you?
Well, madam, continue! How much do you consider him good for?"
Piers pulled a coin impetuously from his pocket and slapped it down on the table in front of Gracie. "There you are, Pixie!" he said. "I'm good for that."
Gracie stared at the coin with widening eyes, not offering to touch it.
"Oh, Piers!" she said, with a long indrawn breath. "It's a whole sovereign! Oh no!"
He laughed a reckless laugh, while over her head his eyes challenged his grandfather's. "That's all right, Piccaninny," he said lightly. "Put it in your pocket! And I'll come round with the car to-morrow and run you into Wardenhurst to buy those gloves."