Mr. Crewe began, with no great ardour, to descant on the theory of planting, and Austen resolved to remain pocketed and ignored no longer. He retraced his steps and made his way rapidly by another path towards Victoria, who turned her head at his approach, and rose. He acknowledged an inward agitation with the vision in his eye of the tall, white figure against the pines, clad with the art which, in mysterious simplicity, effaces itself. "I was wondering," she said, as she gave him her hand, "how long it would be before you spoke to me." "You gave me no chance," said Austen, quickly. "Do you deserve one?" she asked. Before he could answer, Mr. Crewe's explanation of his theories had come lamely to a halt. Austen was aware of the renewed scrutiny of Mrs. Pomfret, and then Mr. Crewe, whom no social manacles could shackle, had broken past her and made his way to them. He continued to treat the ground on which Austen was standing as unoccupied. "Hello, Victoria," he said, "you don't know anything about gardens, do you?" "I don't believe you do either," was Victoria's surprising reply. Mr. Crewe laughed at this pleasantry. "How are you going to prove it?" he demanded. "By comparing what you've done with Freddie Ridley's original plan," said Victoria. Mr. Crewe was nettled. "Ridley has a lot to learn," he retorted. "He had no conception of what was appropriate here." "Freddie was weak," said Victoria, but he needed the money. Don't you know Mr. Vane?" "Yes," said Mr. Crewe, shortly, "I've been talking to him--on business." "Oh," said Victoria, "I had no means of knowing. Mrs. Pomfret, I want to introduce Mr. Vane, and Miss Pomfret, Mr. Vane." Mrs. Pomfret, who had been hovering on the outskirts of this duel, inclined her head the fraction of an inch, but Alice put out her hand with her sweetest manner. "When did you arrive?" she asked. "Well, the fact is, I haven't arrived yet," said Austen. "Not arrived" exclaimed Alice, with a puzzled glance into Victoria's laughing eyes. "Perhaps Humphrey will help you along," Victoria suggested, turning to him. "He might be induced to give you his celebrated grievance about his horses." "I have given it to him," said Mr. Crewe, briefly. "Cheer up, Mr. Vane, your fortune is made," said Victoria. "Victoria," said Mrs. Pomfret, in her most imperial voice, "we ought to be going instantly, or we shan't have time to drop you at the Hammonds'." "I'll take you over in the new motor car," said Mr. Crewe, with his air of conferring a special train. "How much is gasoline by the gallon?" inquired Victoria. "I did a favour once for the local manager, and get a special price," said Mr. Crewe. "Humphrey," said Mrs. Pomfret, taking his hand, "don't forget you are coming to dinner to-night. Four people gave out at the last minute, and there will be just Alice and myself. I've asked old Mr. Fitzhugh." "All right," said Mr. Crewe, "I'll have the motor car brought around."