"I hope you'll think twice before you commit a very great folly," I said.
She laughed. "No, no. I've finished thinking. It was one of my mother's maxims: 'Take care of your health and don't ever give way to serious thinking.' Don't you think it's rather good?"
"I agree as far as your health's concerned."
"Oh, the other too. She was a wise woman. I've only lately begun to realise how wise.... Ah, they're going in. Come along."
She stood up in the punt to see whether Derry appeared on the balcony on his way to dress.
At teatime I had a caller, a gentle old friend and neighbour of mine, Mrs Truscott. I saw her old-fashioned victoria standing in the drive as we reached the terrace. Derry was charming to the old lady; Julia—also charming, but with some subtle difference that I cannot explain. After tea Derry and Julia strolled off to see whether the rods had come from the blacksmith's yet, but they stopped to examine the victoria on the way. Mrs Truscott turned to me.
"What an exceedingly handsome man! But surely she's a good deal older than he?"
"Why do you couple them like that?" I asked.
"Aren't they engaged?"
"No."