“Only those who do not know how intimate Captain Pratt and I really are could think we have quarrelled,” said Lord Newhaven, his eyes wandering over the crowd.  “But I am blocking your way and Mrs. Pratt’s.  How do you do, Mrs. Pratt?  Miss West, your burden is greater than you can bear.  You are dropping part of it.  I don’t know what it is, but I can shut my eyes as I pick it up.  I insist on carrying half back to the house.  It will give a pleasing impression that I have bought largely.  Weren’t you pleased at the money we wrung out of Captain Pratt?  He never thought we should stop bidding.  It’s about all the family will contribute, unless that good old Mamma Pratt buys something.  She is the only one of the family I can tolerate.  Is Scarlett still here?  I ought to have asked after him before.”

“He’s here, but he’s not well.  He’s in hiding in the smoking-room.”

“He is lucky he is no worse.  I should have had rheumatic fever if I had been in his place.  How cool it is in here after the glare outside.  Must you go out again?  Well, I consider I have done my duty, and that I may fairly allow myself a cigarette in peace.”

* * * * *

“Really, Mr. Loftus, I’m quite shocked.  This absurd faintness!  The tent was very crowded, and there is not much air to-day, is there?  I shall be all right if I may sit quietly in the hail a little.  How deliciously cool in here after the glare outside.  A glass of water?  Thanks.  Yes, only I hate to be so troublesome.  And how are you after that dreadful accident in the boat?”

“Oh!  I am all right,” said Doll, who by this time hated the subject.  “It was Scarlett who was nearly frozen like New Zealand lamb.”

Doll had heard Mr. Gresley fire off the simile of the lamb, and considered it sound.

“How absurd you are.  You always make me laugh.  I suppose he has left now that he is unfrozen.”

“Oh no.  He is still here.  We would not let him go till he was better.  He is not up to much.  Weak chap at the best of times, I should think.  He’s lying low in the smoking-room till the people are gone.”

“Mr. Scarlett is an old friend of ours,” said Lady Newhaven, sipping her glass of water, and spilling a little; “but I can’t quite forgive him—­no, I really can’t—­for the danger he caused to Edward.  You know, or perhaps you don’t know, that Edward can’t swim, either.  Even now I can’t bear to think what might have happened.”

She closed her eyes with evident emotion.

Doll’s stolid garden-party face relaxed.  “Good little woman,” he thought.  “As fond of him as she can be.”

“All’s well that ends well,” he remarked, aloud.

Doll did not know that he was quoting Shakespeare, but he did know by long experience that this sentence could be relied on as suitable to the occasion, or to any occasion that looked a little “doddery,” and finished up all right.