She looked at him mischievously, and then suddenly clasped her hands.
"Oh, George," she said, "I'd quite forgotten. Are you doing anything next Wednesday?"
"Nothing more than usual," said Leslie. "About eight hours' work."
"Oh, that's all right then. It's father's and mother's wedding-day, and the old dears want to celebrate it in some way. I suggested that we should go for a motor picnic to Beechwood—just the three of us, and get you to drive us. Don't you think it's a lovely idea? You know there's a dear old church there, where Cardinal Wolsey was married or died or did something, and you and I can get away together after lunch and have a look at it. Both father and mother don't care for that sort of thing, and they won't mind my going with you. You know father's taken quite a fancy to you since you came round that day and showed him the new car."
Leslie leaned back in his chair and looked at her with a kind of amused gravity. Then he shook his head.
"Things can't go on like this, Nancy," he said.
Her dark blue eyes opened innocently.
"Can't go on like what?" she inquired.
"I mean I can't go on deceiving your people in this way."
Nancy drew back, pouting.