"That is all I need you to say. You will understand after I have spoken. May I come to see you to-morrow?"
"Yes, you may come to-morrow. I shall be at home in the morning."
"Beatrice," said a voice, "Bee—Trixie—I do think it's unkind to cut an old friend."
Beatrice turned.
Mrs. Bell, puffed and hot, accompanied by Matty, who was also a little blown, and by the younger girls, looking very cross, had been chasing Captain Bertram and Miss Meadowsweet from one lawn to another. Mrs. Bell, after receiving a somewhat severe snubbing from Mrs. Gorman Stanley, had just retired into the marquee to refresh herself with strawberry ices, when Sophy, laying a hand on her mother's shoulder, informed her in a loud whisper that Captain Bertram and Bee Meadowsweet had gone down the steps of the terrace to the tennis lawn side by side.
"We'll make after them!" exclaimed the good lady. "Girls, don't finish your ices; come quick."
Mrs. Bell took her eldest daughter's hand, and rushed out of the tent. Sophy and Alice stayed behind to have one parting spoonful each of their delicious ices. Then the whole family went helter-skelter down the five sacred steps and on to the lawn. They saw the objects of their desire vanishing through a gap in the hedge into a distant field. They must pursue, they must go hotly to work. Mrs. Bell panted and puffed, and Matty stopped once to breathe hard.
"Courage, child," said the mother. "We'll soon be up with them. I'm not the woman to leave an innocent young man alone with that siren."
"Mother! You call Beatrice a siren?"
"Well, and what is she, Matty, when she takes your lawful sweetheart away before your very eyes? But here, we're in hailing distance, now, and I'll shout. Beatrice—Bee—Trixie!"