A quick frown drew Bunny’s forehead as he observed her attitude.  He spoke impetuously, almost before they met.

“You look like a girl out of a comic opera.  Why don’t you put your coat on?”

Toby made a face at him.  “Because it’s cooler off.  You can carry it if you like.”  She threw it to him nonchalantly with the words, and turned forthwith to Sheila.  “Have you just been round the Stables?  Grilling, isn’t it?  I’ve been exercising one of the youngsters.  He nearly pulled my arms off.  We’ve been practising some jumps.”

“Then you shouldn’t,” put in Bunny.  “The ground’s too hard for jumping.”

Toby turned upon him with a flash of temper.  “No one asked for your opinion.  I know a safe jump when I see one.  Are you coming in to tea, Miss Melrose?  I should think you’re wanting it.  Yes?  What’s the matter?”

She flung the two questions in a different tone, sharply, as though startled.  Sheila was looking at her oddly, very intently, a species of puzzled recognition in her eyes.

Toby backed away from her, half-laughing, yet with something that was not laughter on her face.  “What can be the matter?” she said.  “Is it—­is it my riding breeches?  Here, Bunny!  Let me have my coat!” She turned swiftly with extended arms.  “Quick!  Before Miss Melrose faints!  I’ve given her the shock of her life.”

“No!  No!” protested Sheila, recovering.  “Don’t be absurd!  You reminded me so vividly of someone, that’s all.  I don’t quite know who even yet.”

Bunny helped Toby into the coat without a word.  There was grim displeasure on his face.  The General and Saltash were talking together and for the moment they three stood there alone.

Toby turned round laughing.  “How ridiculous you are!” she said to Bunny.  “You’ve seen me in this get-up heaps of times before—­and will again.  Miss Melrose, I forgot you hadn’t.  I’m horribly sorry to have shocked you.  Shall we go in for tea now?”

The puzzled look was still in Sheila’s eyes though she smiled in answer.  “I am not shocked—­of course,” she said.  “But—­but—­”

“Yes?” said Toby.

She spoke in the same brief, staccato note; the word was like a challenge.  Saltash turned suddenly round.

“I have just been complimenting Miss Larpent on the excellence of her get-up,” he said lightly.  “We met at the gate on the downs, and I have been witnessing some very pretty horsemanship.  Miss Melrose, I hear you are leaving tomorrow, and am quite desolated in consequence.  It is always my luck to be left behind.”

The hard little smile that only he could ever provoke was on Sheila’s lips as she turned to him.

“For such a rapid rider, you are indeed unfortunate,” she said.

He laughed with careless effrontery.  “Yes, the devil usually takes the hindmost,—­so I’ve been told.  Miss Larpent anyway is quite safe, for she will always be an easy first.”