Clarence Mills came down, and Miss Loriner was relieved of the difficult task of keeping her eyes averted. Clarence, on the plea that he had some writing to do, wondered whether he might be excused from church, and Henry recommended the billiard-room as a quiet place for work; there was a writing-table at the end, and no one would interfere. Miss Loriner, when Clarence had finished his meal, offered to conduct him to the apartment; it was, it seemed, over the stables at the back of the house, and not easy for a stranger to find; moreover, Miss Loriner felt anxious to see how writing people started their work. Thus Henry Douglass and Gertie Higham would have been left alone, but that Jim Langham, exercising his gift of interference, appeared, rather puffed about the eyes, and one or two indications hinting that the task of shaving had not been without accident. Jim Langham's temper in the early hours seemed to be imperfect; he made only a pretence of eating, crumbling toast and chipping the top of an egg; he admitted he never felt thoroughly in form until after lunch. When Henry suggested that Gertie would like to see the grounds, Jim Langham followed them, pointing out the rose walk, and the summer-house (that was like a large beehive) with an air of proprietorship which Henry did not assume. Henry made an inquiry. "I'm really chapel, if I'm anything," she answered; "but I shall like to go. Especially if you're to be there. It'll be the first time we've ever been in a place of worship together." "We shall go together again," he said, "some day." She shook her head quickly. Lady Douglass had breakfasted in her room, and came when they were ready and waiting; she complained severely that she seemed to be always the first when any expedition was in train. They walked around the carriage drive and across fields; at the porch, Lady Douglass offered to Gertie the hospitable inquiry in regard to the night's rest that Miss Loriner had made, and went on without waiting for a reply.