It was a hot afternoon, and Hughie, who as yet was far from getting tired of doing nothing, was well content to sprawl in a basket-chair under a great copper-beech, and watch the others play croquet.
Presently Joan, swinging a mallet, came and sat on the grass beside him.
"Well, Hughie?" she began, regarding her comptroller rather quizzically.
"Well, Joey?"
Then they both laughed, or rather chuckled. The curious part about it was that while Hughie laughed "Ha, ha!" deep down, Joey did the same. Tee-heeing and high-pitched feminine shrieking were beyond her compass. She was the Joey of old, with the same gruff voice, though she had got over her difficulty with the r's and l's.
"It seems rummy," observed Miss Gaymer reflectively, "my being put in your charge like the guard of a train. Do you expect me to obey you?"
"Yes," said Hughie. He felt he was missing an opportunity of saying something bright and striking, but "Yes" was the only word he could think of besides "No."
"Oh!" replied Miss Gaymer enigmatically.
"Don't you intend to?" inquired Hughie.