“What’s the car done?” said Jonah.  “I’m going, and I can’t hurry with this.”  He tapped his short leg affectionately.  “We needn’t take Fitch.  Boy or I can drive.”

“Right oh,” said my sister, rising.  “Is ten-minutes-to early enough?”

Jonah nodded.

“This,” said Berry, “is a conspiracy for which you will all pay.  Literally.  I shall take the plate round, and from you four I shall accept nothing but paper.  Possibly I shall——­”

Here the girls fell upon him and bore him protesting into the house and out of earshot.

“Who’s going to look after the car while we’re in church?” said I.

“There’s sure to be somebody ready to earn a couple of bob,” said Jonah.  “Besides, we can always disconnect the north-east trunnion, or jack her up and put the wheels in the vestry or something.”

“All right.  Only we don’t want her pinched.”  With a yawn I rose to my feet.  “And now I suppose I’d better go and turn her out.”

“Right oh,” said Jonah, picking up his paper again.

I strolled into the house.

We were proud of the car.  She was a 1914 Rolls, and we had bought her at a long price less than a week ago.  Fresh from the coach-builder’s, her touring body was painted silver-grey, while her bonnet was of polished aluminium.  Fitted with every conceivable accessory, she was very good-looking, charming alike to ride or drive, and she went like the wind.  In a word, she did as handsome as she was.

It was eight minutes to eleven as we slid past the lodge and on to the
Bilberry road.

Before we had covered two furlongs, we swung round a corner to see a smart two-seater at rest by the dusty hedgerow, and a slight dark girl in fresh blue and white standing with one foot on the step, wiping her dainty fingers on a handful of cotton-waste.

“Agatha!” cried Daphne and Jill.  “Stop, Boy, stop!”

Obediently I slowed to a standstill, as my lady came running after us.

“You might have told me,” she panted.  “I never knew you were back.  And I am so glad.”

“We only arrived on Friday, dear,” said Daphne, and introduced Berry and me.  Jonah, it appeared, had met Miss Deriot at tennis in 1914.

“But you had your hair down then,” he said gravely.

“It’s a wonder I haven’t got it down now,” said Miss Deriot.  “Why didn’t you come along ten minutes earlier?  Then you could have changed my tire.”

“And why are you driving away from church?” said Jill.

“One of the colts has sprained his shoulder, and we’re out of embrocation; so I’m going to get some from Brooch.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Berry eagerly, preparing to leave the car.  “I don’t like to think of you——­”

“Nonsense,” said Daphne, detaining him.

“But supposing she has another puncture?”

“Yes, I can see you mending it on a day like this.”