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 boy, you 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.”
Louise was for keeping close to her companion, but her brother evidently intended her to have a tête-à-tête encounter with his friend, and she realised directly that Madelaine did not second her efforts. In fact the latter yielded at once to Harry’s manoeuvres, and hung back with him, while Pradelle pressed forward, so that before many minutes had elapsed, the couples, as they walked west, were separated by a space of quite a couple of hundred yards.
“Now I do call that good of you, Maddy,” said Harry eagerly. “You are, and you always were, a dear good little thing.”