"Who is going out, Murray?" he called in surprise.
"Miss Castleton, sir. For the air, sir."
"The deuce you say!" gasped the harassed Mr. Wrandall. It was a pretty kettle of fish!
Hetty appeared a few minutes later, attired for motoring.
"Oh, there you are," she said, espying him. "I am going for a spin. Want to come along?"
He swallowed hard. The ends of his moustache described a pair of absolutely horizontal exclamation points. "If you don't mind being encumbered," he remarked sourly.
"I don't in the least mind," said she sweetly.
"Where are you going?" he asked without much enthusiasm. He wasn't to be caught appearing eager, not he. Besides, it wasn't anything to be flippant about.
"Yonder," she said, with a liberal sweep of her arm, taking in the whole landscape. "And be home in time to dress for dinner," she added, as if to relieve his mind.
"Good Lord!" he groaned, "do we have to eat again?"