When everyone else had gone from the terrace, and the late afternoon light was throwing clear shadows across the warm red bricks, Nina and Ida Tabor remained, talking. Nina had seated herself on the arm of her friend's chair, and was chattering away in happy ignorance of the fact that the older woman was seething within. Nina saw no reason for jealousy because Harriet had just had an hour's petting from everyone, had dominated the scene in her striped blue muslin, had finally sauntered to the house between no more important persons than Granny and Ward.
But to Ida it was insufferable, and she could only revenge herself upon her innocent admirer.
"And now we positively must go in, Nina!" she said. "We've wasted this whole afternoon!" And she added, of the embracing arm: "Don't! It's too hot."
"Is playing tennis and talking with me WASTING an afternoon, Ladybird?" Nina asked, archly.
"You know I don't mean that!" Mrs. Tabor said, impatiently, if fondly, freeing herself. "But I have to get packed if I'm going to the Jays'!"
"But you're not going to the Jays'!" Nina said in soft, sweet, confident reminder.
"But I must, darling!"
"Not if I ask you not to!" Nina persisted.
"Truly I must," Mrs. Tabor said, wearily.
"No, you mustn't!"