THE news that Mrs. Chinnery had taken a house of her own and was anxious to let rooms, gave Robert Vyner an idea which kept him busy the whole of an evening. First of all he broached it to Hartley, but finding him divided between joy and nervousness he took the matter into his own hands and paid a visit to Tranquil Vale; the result of which he communicated with some pride to Joan Hartley the same afternoon.
"It was my own idea entirely," he said with a feeble attempt to conceal a little natural pride. "Some people would call it an inspiration. Directly I heard that Mrs. Chinnery was anxious to let rooms I thought of your children—I mentioned the idea to your father and escaped an embrace by a hair's breadth. I was prepared to remind him that 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder' and to follow it up with 'Distance lends enchantment to the view'; but it was unnecessary. It will be a great thing for Mrs. Chinnery."
Miss Hartley looked thoughtful.
"And you," said Robert reproachfully.
"If father is satisfied—" began Miss Hartley.
"'Satisfied' is a cold and inadequate word," said Robert. "He was delighted. He could not have been more pleased if I had told him that the entire five had succumbed to an attack of croup. I left my work to look after itself to come and give you the news."
"You are very kind," said Joan, after some consideration.
"It is a good thing for all concerned," said Robert. "It is a load off my mind. The last time I was here, I was interrupted at a most critical moment by the entrance of Miss Trimblett."
"And now, instead of coming here to see them, you will have to go to Mrs. Chinnery's," said Joan.
"When I want to," said Mr. Vyner with a forced smile, as the twins came rushing into the room. "Yes."