Mr. Blake would have done better to have consulted Geraldine, she thought. Geraldine would have told him the price to a fraction of a shilling; she would have directed him to the best shop for making an excellent bargain. Geraldine had a genius for these practical things, whereas she—Audrey—was liable to make mistakes.
'I am sure five pounds will do,' she repeated, by way of encouragement; and again Cyril thanked her fervently.
There was no more opportunity for carrying on this interesting discussion, for the others were now standing quite still in the shrubbery walk, waiting for them to join them.
'My dearest boy, everyone has gone!' exclaimed Mrs. Blake, in a tone of dismay. 'The tennis-lawn is empty!'
'What does that matter?' replied Audrey, hastening up to her with a heightened colour, as she noticed a quick, observant look on Michael's part. 'We have no rule for our Mondays; people come when they like, and stay as long as they like.'
'But, still, to be the last to go, and this my first visit to Woodcote!' rejoined Mrs. Blake uneasily. 'Cyril, you ought to have taken me away long ago.'
'We will make our adieux now,' he returned carelessly, and not at all affected by his mother's discomposure. 'Come, mother, I see Mrs. Ross standing in the drawing-room window; she is evidently waiting for us.' And Cyril drew his mother's hand through his arm.
Audrey and Michael followed them to the gate. Mrs. Blake kissed Audrey with some effusion. Audrey, who, in spite of her large heart and wide sympathies, was not a demonstrative person, would willingly have dispensed with this little attention before the gentlemen. Mrs. Blake had never offered to embrace her before. She had an idea, too, that Cyril was not quite pleased.
'Come, come, mother,' he said impatiently, 'we are detaining Miss Ross;' and he hurried her away.
Audrey would have returned to the house at once, but Michael asked her to take another turn in the shrubbery.