Out of the Primitive

by Robert Ames Bennet

"I'll ring for tea. You deserve it."

"No objections, I assure you. I'll serve as stopgap till Tom turns up."

Genevieve rose quickly, her color deepening. "He is coming?—this afternoon!"

"I should not have been surprised had I found him here. And now—" He glanced at his watch. "It's already half after four."

"Oh, and papa said he'd be home early to-day!—though his custom is to come barely in time to dress for dinner."

"Hope Tom hit it off with him this morning—but—" Lord James shook his head dubiously—"I fear he was not in a conciliatory mood."

CHAPTER XI

REBELLION

Genevieve rang for tea, and changed the conversation to impersonal topics. A footman brought in a Russian samovar and a service of eggshell china. They sipped their tea and chatted lightly about English acquaintances, but with frequent glances towards the hall entrance. Each was wondering which one would be first to come, Blake or Mr. Leslie.

The conversation had languished to a mere pretext when Blake was announced. The engineer entered slowly, his face red and moist from the fierce drive of the sleet off the lake. He had come afoot.