Chloe Carstairs had not been among the guests at Greengates that afternoon. In vain had Sir Richard and Lady Laura invited her, in vain had Iris added her entreaties. On this point Chloe was adamant, and although her brother argued with her for an hour or more on the advisability of making her reappearance in Littlefield society under the aegis of the Waynes, she merely shook her head with an inscrutable smile.
"If I cared to re-enter Littlefield society," she said calmly, "I should have done so long ago. But I am really so indifferent to those people that I have no desire to meet them, even as a guest at Greengates."
"I didn't suppose you wanted to meet them--for your own sake," retorted her brother, "for a duller and more stupid set of people were never born; but as Iris is to be your sister-in-law I think you might stretch a point and go with me to Greengates this afternoon."
But Chloe shook her head.
"No, Bruce. I am sorry to disappoint you, but it cannot be done. As you know, I am fond of Iris"--knowing his sister Bruce was quite satisfied with this moderate expression of her affection--"but I won't go to Greengates to-day, nor to the wedding to-morrow. If you like to bring Iris down to say good-bye this evening when all the people are gone I shall like to see her."
"All right." Bruce gave up the contest. "I'm staying on--quietly--to dinner; but I'll bring her down for half an hour afterwards."
"Very well." Chloe rose from the breakfast-table as she spoke, and sauntered to the window, from whence she looked over the pretty garden with appreciative eyes. "It is lucky the weather is so beautiful--Greengates will look at its best on a day like this."
And Bruce agreed heartily as he stepped on to the lawn to enjoy his after-breakfast pipe.
* * * * *
True to his promise Bruce motored his fiancée over to Cherry Orchard in the gloaming of the September evening, after a somewhat protracted argument with Lady Laura, whose sense of propriety was, so she averred, outraged by the project.
Sir Richard, however, to whom the loss of his only daughter was a deep though hidden grief, gave his consent readily enough when he saw that Iris really wished to bid her friend good-bye; and making Bruce promise to bring her back in good time he himself went to the door to pack them safely into the motor.
"Take care of her, Bruce--she is very precious to me!" He laid his hand on the young man's arm, and his voice held an appeal which Bruce involuntarily answered.