I didn't! Dash it, it made me squirm to think of his return.
As we left the pergola behind, I looked backward through its arch, and there was the chauffeur, standing in the shadows, looking after us. And long after, as we turned from the straight avenue leading through the pergola, I descried his figure, still looking after us, unchanged, immovable.
It was rum!
But I had other things to think of as we sat out in the loggia—chiefly of her, herself; withal, wondering gloomily what her father would say when he found I had disobeyed his injunction about not speaking to her. Presently the summons to luncheon came, and we went in.
From up-stairs came sounds indicating great hilarity on Billings' part. In fact, we could hear him slapping his knee and screaming. The frump looked at me anxiously.
"Why, I understood he was all right again," she said aside.
I shook my head dubiously. I had seen in the past day or two how rapidly Billings' moods shifted. Twenty minutes since he had looked enraged.
"Oh, this is too good—but keep it mum!" we heard. "Come on, Professor!"
"Professor?" The frump looked at Frances, then at Wilkes inquiringly.
"I didn't know, miss," he murmured contritely. "'S why I didn't mention it."