“It’s really a very sensible idea,” approved Lady Susan. “If you’d actually tipped over into Lac Léman that night, you’d certainly have gone to the bottom if you’d had to depend on your own unaided efforts.”
“What happened?” asked Forrester with interest, and Lady Susan embarked on a graphic account of Ann’s adventure during the progress of the Venetian fête at Montricheux, and of the way in which Eliot Coventry had come to her rescue.
“Coventry? Is that the morose-looking individual who lives at Heronsmere?” inquired Brett.
Ann glanced up in some surprise.
“Oh, have you met him already?”
“We came across him with Brian Tempest on our way here,” explained Lady Susan. “The two men are rather a study in contrasts,” she added. “Brian is really a great dear. I always think it’s so clever of him to have preserved his faith in human nature when he’s condemned to live with that oil-and-vinegar sister of his. It may be very unchristian of me”—with a small schoolboy grin—“but I simply can’t abide Caroline Tempest!”
Shortly afterwards she professed herself sufficiently rested to essay the return journey to White Windows.
“I shall certainly come down to the Cove to-morrow and watch you disporting yourselves in the briny,” she said, as she kissed Ann good-bye. “Does Robin bathe with you?”
“When he has time. But Cara Hilyard is sure to be there. She swims like a fish.”
“That’s the lovely lady who lives at the Priory, isn’t it? You’ll have to meet her, Brett.”