"I did," said Alicia Drake, as she came up, with her arm round the younger of Lady Niton's nieces. "Isn't it becoming?"
"Hum!" said Lady Niton, in a gruff tone, "young ladies can always find new ways of wasting their time."
Marsham approached Diana.
"We're just off," he said, smiling. "The clouds are lifting. You'll come?"
"What, to lunch?" said Lady Niton, just behind. "Of course they will. What else is there for the women to do? Congratulate you on your waistcoat, Oliver."
"Isn't it superb?" he said, drawing himself up with mock majesty, so as to show it off. "I am Alicia's debtor for life."
Yet a careful ear might have detected something a little hollow in the tone.
Lady Niton looked at him, and then at Miss Drake, evidently restraining her sharp tongue for once, though with difficulty. Marsham lingered a moment making some last arrangements for the day with his sister. Diana noticed that he towered over the men among whom he stood; and she felt herself suddenly delighting in his height, in his voice which was remarkably refined and agreeable, in his whole capable and masterful presence. Bobbie Forbes standing beside him was dwarfed to insignificance, and he seemed to be conscious of it, for he rose on his toes a little, involuntarily copying Marsham's attitude, and looking up at him.
As the shooters departed, Forbes bringing up the rear, Lady Niton laid her wrinkled hand on his arm.
"Never mind, Bobbie, never mind!"--she smiled at him confidentially. "We can't all be six foot."