She applied herself to Lady Alanby and
Mrs. Manners at once, and ended by making them talk to each other. When
they left the tea table under the trees to look at the gardens, she
walked between them, playing upon the primeval horticultural passions
which dominate the existence of all respectable and normal country
ladies, until the gulf between them was temporarily bridged. This being
achieved, she adroitly passed them over to Lady Anstruthers, who, Nigel
observed with some curiosity, accepted the casual responsibility without
manifest discomfiture.
To the aching Tommy the manner in which, a few minutes later, he found
himself standing alone with Jane Lithcom in a path of clipped laurels
was almost bewilderingly simple. At the end of the laurel walk was a
pretty peep of the country, and Miss Vanderpoel had brought him to see
it. Nigel Anstruthers had been loitering behind with Jane and Mary. As
Miss Vanderpoel turned with him into the path, she stooped and picked a
blossom from a clump of speedwell growing at the foot of a bit of wall.
"Lady Jane's eyes are just the colour of this flower," she said.
"Yes, they are," he answered, glancing down at the lovely little blue
thing as she held it in her hand.
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