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She gave him a smile and a left hand, and
went on talking. Lord Buntingford stood by, twisting his moustache, till
she had finished. Then the chauffeur, looking flushed and sulky, got into
the car, and the girl with Lord Buntingford ascended the steps. Mrs.
Friend left the window, and hurriedly went back to the drawing-room,
where tea was still spread. Through the drawing-room door she heard a
voice from the hall full of indignant energy.
"You ought to sack that man, Cousin Philip. He's spoiling that beautiful
car of yours."
"Is he? He suits me. Have you been scolding him all the way?"
"Well, I told him a few things--in your interest." Lord Buntingford
laughed. A few words followed in lowered tones.
"He is telling her about me," thought Mrs. Friend, and presently caught a
chuckle, very merry and musical, which brought an involuntary smile to
her own eyes. Then the door was thrown back, and Lord Buntingford ushered
in his ward.
"This is Mrs. Friend, Helena. She arrived just before you did."
The girl advanced with sudden gravity and offered her hand.


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