“Quite,” Madelene replied. “It is a private joke of auntie’s and mine. I have come round this way on purpose to see you, Philip, as you would not have found any of us at home to-day. I suppose it will be to say good-bye, as you are leaving so soon, I hear.”
“I am leaving very soon, certainly,” he replied. “The day after to-morrow, probably. But I quite intend to come over to Coombesthorpe first. I want to say good-bye to Uncle Marcus and Ermine too.”
“They are coming here to luncheon to-morrow,” said his grandmother promptly.
“Oh, indeed,” said Sir Philip. “Well then if Maddie will invite me I will drive back with them to afternoon tea.”
“I shall not be at home,” said Madelene.
“Maddie,” said Philip reproachfully, “it is mean, it is unkind of you to force me to avow my real motive. The fact is—I am dying to see the third Miss St Quentin. Why is she not with you to-day? You might have some regard for my feelings.”
“She has gone to Waire with Ermine,” said Lady Cheynes. “Madelene is arranging about her having lessons from the same masters as the little Hewitts at the rectory. And,” she went on, “they are nicely brought-up girls—they will be pleasant companions for Ella.”
“Those gawky Hewitt children!” said Philip, with a complete change of tone. “Why I thought Ella was seventeen and quite a grown-up sort of person!”
“She is seventeen,” said Lady Cheynes, calmly, “but some girls are grown-up at seventeen and others are children.”
“Oh,” said Philip. “Well for my part, I don’t care about girls of the Hewitt type. I suppose then, that Mrs Robertson has kept her back—that she is what you call ‘quite in the schoolroom’ still.”