Sir James, evidently conscious, saw the raillery in her face, pinched her fingers as she gave him her hand, and Diana, passing him, escaped to the garden, very certain that she should find the couple in question somewhere among its shades.

Lady Niton examined Sir James—­looked after Diana.

“Look here!” she said, abruptly; “what’s up?  You two understand something I don’t.  Out with it!”

Sir James, who could always blush like a girl, blushed.

“I vow that I am as innocent as a babe unborn!”

“What of?” The tone of the demand was like that of a sword in the drawing.

“I have some guests here to-day.”

“Who are they?”

“A young man you know—­a young woman you would like to know.”

Silence.  Lady Niton sat down again.

“Kindly ring the bell,” she said, lifting a peremptory hand, “and send for my carriage.”

“Let me parley an instant,” said Sir James, moving between her and the bell.  “Bobbie is just off to Berlin.  Won’t you say good-bye to him?”

“Mr. Forbes’s movements are entirely indifferent to me—­ring!” Then, shrill-voiced—­and with sudden fury, like a bird ruffling up:  “Berlin, indeed!  More waste—­more shirking!  He needn’t come to me!  I won’t give him another penny.”

“I don’t advise you to offer it,” said Sir James, with suavity.  “Bobbie has got a post in Berlin through his uncle, and is going off for a twelvemonth to learn banking.”

Lady Niton sat blinking and speechless.  Sir James drew the muslin curtain back from the window.

“There they are, you see—­Bobbie—­and the Explanation.  And if you ask me, I think the Explanation explains.”

Lady Niton put up her gold-rimmed glasses.

“She is not in the least pretty!” she said, with hasty venom, her old hand shaking.

“No, but fetching—­and a good girl.  She worships her Bobbie, and she’s sending him away for a year.”

“I won’t allow it!” cried Lady Niton.  “He sha’n’t go.”

Sir James shrugged his shoulders.

“These are domestic brawls—­I decline them.  Ah!” He turned to the window, opening it wide.  She did not move.  He made a sign, and two of the three persons who had just appeared on the lawn came running toward the house.  Diana loitered behind.

Lady Niton looked at the two young faces as they reached her side—­the mingling of laughter and anxiety in the girl’s, of pride and embarrassment in Bobbie’s.

“You sha’n’t go to Berlin!” she said to him, vehemently, as she just allowed him to take her hand.

“Dear Lady Niton!—­I must.”

“You sha’n’t!—­I tell you!  I’ve got you a place in London—­a, thousand times, better than your fool of an uncle could ever get you.  Uncle, indeed!  Read that letter!” She tossed him one from her bag.

Bobbie read, while Lady Niton stared hard at the girl.  Presently Bobbie began to gasp.