"Lilly has an attack of the fidgets," said Marjory. "She wants to go out for a walk."
"You shall both come in the carriage with me, my dears. I was coming in to propose it to you. We won't dine until quite late this evening."
"Delightful," exclaimed Marjory, and the two girls ran out of the room to get ready. Mrs. Johnstone followed them, and a few moments later a couple of young men who were staying in the house sauntered lazily into the drawing-room.
"What do you think of Wyndham's sisters, Exham?" said one to the other.
Exham, a delicate youth of about nineteen, gave a long expressive whistle.
"The girls are handsome enough," he said. "But not in my style. The one they call Lilias is too brusque. As to Wyndham, well—"
"What a significant 'well,' old fellow—explain yourself."
"Nothing," returned Exham, who seemed to draw out of any further confidences he was beginning to make. "Nothing—only, I wouldn't be in Wyndham's shoes."
The other man, whose name was Power, gave a short laugh.
"You need not pretend to be so wise and close, Exham," he retorted. "Anyone can see with half an eye that Wyndham's wife is not in love with him. All the same. Wyndham has not done a bad thing for himself—stepping into a business like this. Why, he'll have everything by-and-bye. I don't see how he can help it."