“No, indeed,” Nina said, nervously. “It gave me the fright of my life. I had to creep away to Cynthia’s room for comfort. I hate thunder, especially when it comes near.”
“It was near enough last night. One of the trees in the garden was struck. You can see it from the door.”
“That must have been the peal that drove me out of my wits, then. I knew it was close at hand.”
“Well, it’s cleared the air, that’s one good thing,” said Douglas, glancing through the window at the big white clouds sailing in the blue. “All the stuffiness has gone now. This is going to be a day for careful enjoyment, too good to waste on mere reckless frivolity.”
He looked sternly at Cynthia.
“I do love Friocksheim,” said Nina, irrelevantly. “It’s a place where one can do just as one likes and no one bothers about things.”
“What about borrowing the Kestrel and going up the coast until the afternoon?” suggested Cynthia. “Mrs. Brent would let us have it if we asked her.”
Douglas glanced again through the window.
“Hullo! She’s gone!”
“What a nuisance!” Cynthia looked over the empty waters of the bay. “Mrs. Brent said something last night about going off in the yacht, but I didn’t think she meant it. She’s evidently taken the Kestrel herself, though. That notion’s knocked on the head.”