CHAPTER IX
A dogcart from Harrington’s had been ordered to be “round” the next day at noon. Dion had decided against a long day’s shooting on Robin’s account. He must not tire the little chap. In truth it would be impossible to take the shooting seriously, with Robin there all the time, clinging on to Jane and having to be looked after.
“It’s going to be Robin’s day,” Dion said the next morning. “When are you going to tell him?”
“Directly after breakfast. By the way, Dion,”—she spoke carelessly, and was opening a letter while she spoke,—“I’m not coming.”
“Oh, but you must!”
“No; I’ll stay quietly here. I have lots of things to do.”
“But Robin’s first day as a sportsman!”
“He isn’t going to shoot,” she said with a mother’s smile.
“Why won’t you come? You’ve got some very special reason.”
“Perhaps I have, but I’m not going to tell it. Women aren’t wanted everywhere. Sometimes a couple of men like to be alone.”