Jack explained in a very natural off-hand manner how he came to be in Mr. Hobhouse's company, and Mr. Hobhouse corroborated his statement in his own effusive way. And then as we parted, she threw her smile full on that gentleman, and asked,
"Why haven't you been to see us again, Mr. Hobhouse? Do come to tea one day!"
Mr. Hobhouse gabbled a polite but slightly, evasive reply, and we walked on.
"Do you mean to say," demanded my cousin, "that you have only been to see this delectable lady once?"
"That's all," I admitted.
"What's the reason? It isn't very like our methods, Roger."
"It isn't," I admitted again. "But then you see what with pestilential weather and all these antiquarian visits to pay, my available time has been pretty well occupied."
"But that house is one to keep a particular eye on."
"That house has got a pair of particularly bright eyes in it. On my one visit there I felt a little too like walking on the edge of a precipice to wish to repeat the experience often. If that girl suspects me, Jack, and if she isn't the right sort, we are dished."
"Oh, dash it. I can't believe she's mixed up in this business!" he declared. "Of course one mustn't trust anybody; still, that doesn't prevent your going to tea with her. In fact what you really ought to be doing is making love to her—so long as you keep your head."