"I thought he had gone back to Italy," said Durham.
"He is going next week, and talks of marriage."
"I don't envy his wife," said Miss Berengaria, rising. "Girls, come into the house to see that everything is prepared for our heroes."
The girls laughed and tripped away. Durham left the garden and drove to the station to fetch back Conniston and Bernard. They did not come by that train, however, much to the disappointment of those at the Bower. It was seven before they arrived, and then the three ladies came out to meet them on the lawn.
"Dear Alice," said Bernard, who had his arm in a sling, but otherwise looked what Conniston called "fit!", "how glad I am to see you!"
"And you, Lucy," said Conniston, taking his sweetheart in his arms.
"Really," cried Miss Berengaria, while Durham stood by laughing, "it is most perplexing to assist at the meeting of a quartette of lovers. Gore, how are you? Conniston, your fever has pulled you down. I hope you have both sown your wild oats and have come back to settle for good."
"With the most charming of wives," said Dick, bowing. "We have."
Miss Berengaria took Durham's arm. "I must look out a wife for you, sir," she said, leading him to the house. "Come away and let the turtle-doves coo alone. I expect dinner will be late."
And dinner was late. Conniston, with Lucy on his arm, strolled away in the twilight, but Bernard and Alice remained under the elm. When it grew quite dusk a red light was seen shining from the window of the drawing-room. Gore pointed it out.