“Yes.”
“Dry your eyes! We must be getting back, or your aunt will wonder what’s been happening to us. Are you doing anything to-morrow? Right! I’ll make a plan for to-morrow, and we’ll talk things over. Now get control of yourself and of your voice: talk to me about the opera, anything. We have to put up a big bluff. Are you ready?”
They walked back to the opera-house, lazily discussing the singers. The hall was still half-full, and they stopped to exchange a greeting with Dr. Gaisford. In the passage behind the boxes, Lord John Carstairs and his wife were pacing slowly up and down, and they stopped again. Deganway scurried past like a frightened rabbit and confided to Lady Poynter that Eric Lane and the little Maitland girl were going about again together.
“My dear, it’s the second time I’ve caught them to-day!,” he added. “They’re positively inseparable.”
Eric walked on, deep in conversation. Barbara Oakleigh was standing in the open door-way of her box. He did not see her, but she looked curiously at his companion and turned for a second look, as they passed. When they were out of sight, she returned to the front of her box and levelled her glasses on them for a moment as they sat down.
“It’s hotter than ever!,” Eric exclaimed. “Lady Maitland, will you trust Ivy to me for the whole of to-morrow? I want to take her to Maidenhead, we’d lunch at Skindle’s, punt gently for about ten yards—which is the limit of my punting capacity—, tie up under a tree until dinner, dine at Skindle’s and return to London. May I do that? I promise not to drown her.”
Lady Maitland smiled guardedly. She had noticed for some weeks that Eric was interested in her niece, but this was the first time that he had avowed it; and, though she was lazily content to keep Ivy at Eaton Place or in Shropshire until she or her parents came to their senses, a marriage so suitable in every way was undeniably the most satisfactory escape from an awkward family entanglement.
“What do you say about it, Ivy?,” she asked.
“I should love it. It’s sweet of you, Mr. Lane.”
“I’ll call with a taxi at half-past ten,” said Eric.