“I’m ashamed of you, Dick—I am indeed,” she said, sharply.
“Ashamed!” he exclaimed. “Why?”
“Such cunning, such artfulness! I didn’t give you credit for it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Coaxing pa round like that, when you no more want hothouses than I do. There, go away, sir; I’m disgusted. Look! ma’s beckoning to you.”
In effect, Lady Rea was cautiously making signals from the tea-tray; and on Trevor going to her, Pratt slowly crossed to the window, and began to talk to Fin.
“Do you know, Miss Rea, I find I’ve been here six weeks,” he said awkwardly.
“You don’t say so, Mr Pratt,” said Fin, quietly.
Pratt stared, and went on.
“The time has gone like magic.”