"Yes, Mr. Rose. I should be very pleased."
"That's right. Well, I'll go out and get some lunch. Will you be ready in half an hour?"
"Yes—I've just time to run through these letters."
"Very well. Au revoir! I'll be back at half-past two."
He went out, and Antonia joyfully pirouetted round the room before settling to work—somewhat to the surprise of Barry, who entered at that moment.
"Hallo, Miss Gibbs—practising the turkey-trot, or what?"
She stopped, blushing hotly, and tried in vain to look unconcerned.
"No, Mr. Raymond. Only—Mr. Rose wants me to motor down to Willowhurst with him about some books—and it's such a lovely day!"
"You like motoring?" Barry could not resist a sympathetic smile.
"Oh, I just love it!" She clasped her hands in rapture. "Of course, I've only been in taxis and char-à-bancs and things, but I've always wanted to go in a real motor-car—a private one, I mean!"