"As I contrived to miss my lunch to-day, I shan't grumble," replied
Peter, smiling. "Till to-night, then."
And the Fentons' motor slid away into the lamplit dusk.
"Wasn't that rather rash of you, Ralph?" asked Penelope later on, when they were both dressing for the evening. "I think—last summer—Peter was getting too fond of Nan for his own peace of mind."
Ralph came to the door of his dressing-room in his shirt-sleeves, shaving-brush in hand.
"Good Lord, no!" he said. "Mallory's married and Nan's engaged—what more do you want? They were just good pals. And anyway, even if you're right, the affair must he dead embers by this time."
"It may be. Still, there's nothing gained by blowing on them," replied
Penelope sagely.
CHAPTER XXVI
"THE WIDTH OF A WORLD BETWEEN"
Nan gave a final touch to Penelope's hair, drawing the gold fillet which bound it a little lower down on to the broad brow, then stood back and regarded the effect with critical eyes.
"That'll do," she declared. "You look a duck, Penelope! I hope you'll get a splendid reception. You will if you smile at the audience as prettily as you're smiling now! Won't she, Ralph?"