“Never mind if it’s sixteen,” said Louise, increasing her pace.
“Hallo, girls,” cried Harry, and they were obliged to face round.
There was no warm look of welcome from either, but Pradelle was too much of the London man of the world to be taken aback, and he stepped forward to Louise’s side, smiling.
“You have chosen a delightful morning for your walk, Miss Vine.”
“Yes, but we were just going back.”
“No; don’t go back yet,” said Harry quickly, for he had strung himself up. “Vic, old fellow, walk on with my sister. I want to have a chat with Miss Van Heldre.”
The girls exchanged glances, each seeming to ask the other for counsel.
Then, in a quiet, decisive way, Madelaine spoke.
“Yes, do, Louie dear; I wanted to speak to your brother, too.”
There was another quick look passing between the friends, and then Louise bowed and walked on, Pradelle giving Harry a short nod which meant, according to his judgment, “It’s all right.”