Carol Mayne, when presented to this young lady, as one of Melicent's Fransdale cousins, was guilty of the rudeness of staring. He could not believe that he had heard correctly, as he contemplated the lithe figure, the lounging attitude, the lumpy hair, the cigarette.
"Not—one of the Vicarage cousins?" he asked, in amazement.
Theo was delighted as she saw him visibly trying to adjust her with his preconceived notion of the strictly brought up Miss Coopers.
"My father being a priest doesn't make me a priestess!" she cried. Her voice was a little too loud at all times. "That's where the English make their big mistake. My mother thinks she has every bit as much right to go round lecturing the parishioners as my father has; but that's just tommy-rot, you know. We're always telling her she hasn't any official status. You're not married, are you, Mr. Mayne?"
"There isn't any room in the colonies for the English provincial vicarage life," he replied good-humouredly, mentally contrasting this flower of modern girlhood with his late ward, and trying to realise that this young lady's parents had thought her contaminated by Melicent's companionship.
"Are you living in town?" he asked.
"Yes; I'm on the boards," said Theo, leaning forward to toss her cigarette stump into the fire. "Keen on the theatre?" she asked casually.
Carol looked at Burmester, who was enjoying his friend's consternation. The Cooper girls were the young man's horror and annoyance.
At this moment the door was pushed open, and Melicent came quietly in.
She had been told who was there, and was on guard.