"It's little things like that that hit hard. Not to be One's own man in a crisis—d'y' see?"
Mary nodded.
"But it's only temporary," he continued more cheer-fully. "I'll try myself out one of these days. Only, of course, arranged tests are never real ones. The crisis must leap on one to be of any use. Some little time ago, when I was at the coast, an incident happened—a kind of unexpected emergency"—he paused thoughtfully as a sudden vision of a moon-lit room flashed before him—"I got through that all right," he added, "so I'm hopeful."
"How thrilling," said Mary. "Won't you tell me what it was?"
His eyes met hers with a placidity for which she could have shaken him.
"It wouldn't interest you," he said. "I hear Aunt coming at last."
Miss Campion's voice had indeed preceded her.
"Oh, there you are, Mary," she said with some acidity. "I told Desire you were sure to be down first."
"I try to be prompt," said Mary meekly. "I have been keeping Benis company until you were ready." She spoke to Miss Campion but her slightly mocking eyes watched for some change upon the face of her young hostess. Desire, as usual, was serene.
"Mary thinks we are all heathens not to have a car," said Benis. "When are you going to choose yours, Desire?"