“My dear,” she said, as Ann stooped and kissed her, “I do hope and pray that your adorable Maria Coombe is at this moment concerning herself with the making of tea. Much as I love you, I shouldn’t have toiled over here in this appalling heat but for this graceless nephew of mine, who would give me no peace till I did. So I chose the lesser evil.”
Forrester seemed supremely unrepentant, but Ann noticed that when tea appeared he waited rather charmingly on Lady Susan, anticipating her wants even down to the particular brand of cigarette she preferred to smoke when, after swallowing three cups of scaldingly hot tea à la Russe, she pronounced her thirst satisfactorily assuaged. There was a certain half-humorous, half-tender indulgence in his manner towards her, and Ann could imagine that he would know very well how to spoil the woman he loved. But he would master her completely first. Of that she felt sure.
It appeared that he had descended upon White Windows unexpectedly. He had been cruising round the coast and, without troubling to apprise Lady Susan of his intention, had suddenly elected to pay her a visit, and his yacht, the Sphinx, was now lying at anchor in Silverquay Bay.
“And even now I don’t know how long he proposes staying!” smiled his aunt.
“How long?” He smiled back at her. “The question is, how long will you put up with me? I don’t think—now”—with a swift, audacious glance which Ann refused to meet—“that I can do better than throw myself on the hospitality of White Windows for the remainder of the summer.”
“My dear boy”—Lady Susan beamed. “Will you really? I should love to have you; you know that. And, after all”—with a twinkle—“Silverquay has its amusements. We take tea with each other, and boat, and bathe—”
“I can do all those things,” said Forrester modestly. He turned suddenly to Ann. “Can you swim?”
“I can keep up for about two strokes,” she replied, smiling. “After that, overcome by my own prowess, I sink like a stone.”
“Then I’ll teach you,” he said. “We’ll begin to-morrow. What time and where do you generally bathe?”
Ann raised one or two feeble objections, but they were promptly overruled, and before she quite knew how it had happened she found herself committed to a promise that she would be at Berrier Cove the following morning, prepared to take a first lesson in the art of swimming.