"There is no danger," I said. "You saw how unruffled Miss de Rosen was."
"It was quite remarkable," admitted her ladyship sweetly.
Down the hill we went, and two minutes later, with York beside me and Lady Baradell ensconced in the back I was carefully steering the car over Barham Bridge and along the winding Suffolk road, which twisted in and out between the lush meadows and small coppices.
York, of course, knew the way, and following his directions, we soon came in sight of an old Jacobean mansion rather the worse for wear, standing back in pleasantly timbered grounds.
"How are you going to get back?" I asked.
"Furnivall and my sister are coming over in the carriage," said York, "and there'll be plenty of room for us."
"In that case," I said, "I think I'll desert you basely at the door."
"Oh, come along in," protested York. Then, turning to Lady Baradell, he added laughingly: "Tell him he's got to; he'll obey you."
She shook her head. "I am afraid I sympathise with him. I am sure he can find a much more pleasant way of spending his time than talking about turnips and the vicar."
York groaned. "Well, I call it uncommon mean of you, Northcote," he grumbled, as we turned in at the lodge. "You and Vane have both shied off."