“Until Elaine comes—she will manage it then,” Macloud answered.
And on Friday morning, a little before noon, Miss Cavendish arrived. Miss Carrington, alone, met her at the station.
“You’re just the same Davila I’d forgotten for years,” said she, laughingly, as they walked across the platform to the waiting carriage. 254
“And you’re the same I had forgotten,” Davila replied.
“But it’s delightful to be remembered!” said Elaine, meaningly.
“And it’s just as delightful to be able to remember,” was the reply.
Just after they left the business section, on the drive out, Miss Carrington saw Croyden and Macloud coming down the street. Evidently Macloud had not been able to detain him at home until she got her charge safely into Ashburton. She glanced at Miss Cavendish—she had seen them, also, and, settling back into the corner of the phaeton, she hid her face with her Marabou muff.
“Don’t stop!” she said.
Miss Carrington smiled her understanding.
“I won’t!” she answered. “Good morning!” as both men raised their hats—and drove straight on.