"Oh, here you are," Marcia's soft voice was saying. "It seemed ages getting here."
Jerry took charge of the situation with a discretion that did the situation credit.
"Marcia, you know Miss Habberton—Miss Van Wyck."
"Of course," they both echoed coolly. Marcia examining Una impertinently, Una cheerfully indifferent.
"Miss Habberton and I were after butterflies," said Jerry, "but she has promised to stop for tea."
"I really ought to be going, Jerry," said Una.
"But you can't, you know, after promising," said Jerry with a smile.
The introductions made, the party moved on toward the cabin, Miss Habberton and I bringing up the rear.
"I could kill you for this," she whispered to me and the glance she gave me half-accomplished her wish.
"It isn't my fault," I protested. "I didn't know they were coming until yesterday—and you know you said—"