CHAPTER XVI
THE WARNING
"Going away to-morrow, are you?" said Ina Rose, in her cool young voice.
"I hope you'll enjoy it."
"Thanks!" said Piers. "No doubt I shall."
He spoke with his eyes on the dainty lace fan he had taken from her.
Ina frankly studied his face. She had always found Piers Evesham interesting.
"I should be wild if I were in your place," she remarked, after a moment.
He shrugged his shoulders, and his brown face slightly smiled. "Because of the hunting?" he said, and turned his eyes upon her fresh, girlish face. "But there's always next year, what?"
"Good gracious!" said Ina. "You talk as if you were older than your grandfather. It wouldn't comfort me in the least to think of next season's hunting. And I don't believe it does you either. You are only putting it on."
"All right!" said Piers. His eyes dwelt upon her with a species of mocking homage that yet in a fashion subtly flattered. He always knew how to please Ina Rose, though not always did he take the trouble. "Let us say—for the sake of argument—that I am quite inconsolable. It doesn't matter to anyone, does it?"