"Are you quite sure your ankle is not sprained, my dear?" cried Mrs. Kemp, in alarm. "The wisest thing to do will be to come home with me at once, and we will send for a doctor to examine it."
Iris sprang to her feet with a wicked little laugh.
"See, it is better now—almost as good as new," she declared, "thanks to Mr. Kendal for insisting upon my sitting down here to rest."
Had it been any one else but Iris, Kendal would have said the affair had been a clever little ruse to give him the opportunity to make love to her.
But in this instance it never occurred to him but that Iris was telling the plain facts—that her ankle had been wrenched, and with a few moments' rest it was as good as ever again.
Mrs. Kemp looked greatly relieved.
"We may as well be going," said Iris, hoping that her aunt would pass on and leave them to enjoy the téte-à-téte which she had interrupted at such an inopportune time.
"I will go with you both as far as the postoffice," said Mrs. Kemp; and the good soul did not notice the expression of annoyance on both faces, and, very much against the will of each, she accompanied them there and back.
Iris was bitterly annoyed, but she was diplomatic enough to conceal it; and she could see, too, by Harry's face that he was disappointed in being so ruthlessly cheated out of a téte-à-téte with her.
They loitered long by the way, trusting that Mrs. Kemp would become impatient with their delay, and excuse herself, to get back to the house in time to superintend dinner, which was quite a feature at Gray Gables.