She stopped and kissed Vera's grave face, laughed again as though she could not help it, and flitted like a butterfly from the room.
CHAPTER II
HIS INTENTIONS
"Where is Doris?" asked Phil Abingdon, looking round upon the guests assembled in his drawing-room at Rivermead. "We are all waiting for her."
"I think we had better go in without her," said his wife, with her nervous smile. "She arranged to motor down with Mrs. Lockyard and her party this afternoon. Possibly they have persuaded her to dine with them."
"She would never do that surely," said Phil, with an involuntary glance at Vivian Caryl who had just entered.
"If you are talking about my fiancé, I think it more than probable that she would," the latter remarked. "Mrs. Lockyard's place is just across the river, I understand? Shall I punt over and fetch Doris?"
"No, no!" broke in his hostess anxiously. "I am sure she wouldn't come if you did. Besides—"
"Oh, as to that," said Vivian Caryl, with a grim smile, "I think, with all deference to your opinion, that the odds would be in my favour. However, let us dine first, if you prefer it."