“You must come up one day and walk round the stables,” Raymond said, safe in the knowledge that she was a great deal too nervous of Penhallow to accept the invitation.
The suggestion threw her into a twitter of embarrassment at once, and she was still faltering out excuses when the car pulled up outside Azalea Lodge.
Refusing her pressing invitation to come in for a moment to see his uncle, Raymond leaned across her to open the door of the car. By the time she had extricated herself, and had received her basket from him, Phineas, who had seen her arrival from behind the muslin curtains which shrouded the drawing-room windows, had come out of the house, and was advancing down the garden-path.
Common politeness compelled Raymond to refrain from driving off, which he would have liked to do, until he had shaken hands with his uncle. He did not, however, get out of the car, and he did not retain Phineas’s soft, white hand in his a second longer than was necessary.
“Well, well, well!” uttered Phineas. “I declare, I wondered who could be bringing you home in such style, Delia! This is indeed kind! And how are you, my boy’ You have no need to answer: you look to be in splendid shape. You must come inside, and take a little refreshment. No, no, I insist!”
“Thanks, Uncle, I’m afraid I haven’t time. Glad to see you looking so fit.”
Phineas smoothed back a lock of his white hair, which the breeze was blowing into his eyes. There was an agate ring upon his finger, and his nails were carefully manicured. “Not so bad, Raymond, not so bad for an old fellow! And how is your dear father?”
As Raymond was well aware that Phineas disliked Penhallow intensely, this unctuous inquiry made his brows draw together. He replied bluntly: “He’s the same as he always was.”
“Ah!” said Phineas. “A wonderful constitution! A remarkable man, quite remarkable!”
“Why don’t you come up and see him sometime?” suggested Raymond maliciously. “He’d like that!”