"Brought him with you! I should think you hadn't! The idea of bringing him! The great thing is, you've brought yourself. Honestly, I'd sooner see you than that the Fates should buy a motor car; and if you knew how set I am on that--you mayn't believe it, but we only go driving about behind frumpy old horses--you'd understand how glad I am--especially to-day. My dear, to-day's our regatta, and our garden-party--it's our day of days! You couldn't have dropped on us at a better time; you little schemer, I believe you planned it! Father, if you will kindly come here I will present you to my friend, Miss Dorothy Gilbert, of whom, in my moments of emotion, you have heard me speak. Dorothy, this is my father; a more desirable parent you could not ask for; though I regret to say that he treats his daughter with a lack of respect which I fear is one of the signs of the day. Fathers did not treat their daughters like that when I was young." "No, Miss Gilbert, nor when I was young either; in those days daughters stood in awe of their fathers--but we've changed all that. I trust you know my daughter sufficiently well to be aware that she has her moments of sanity." "Dad!--you shouldn't speak like that!--the child will misunderstand you. Fortunately Dorothy does know me. James!--Jim!--when you've finished trying to tie that boat up might I ask you to step this way? Dorothy, this is Mr James Harold Arbuthnot Vernon, better known as Jim--he is my brother; which is the only complimentary thing I can say of him. Jim, I believe you can be almost nice if you try very hard--do try your very hardest to be nice to Miss Gilbert." "Miss Gilbert, I assure you I can be very nice to you, as this little object puts it, without trying in the least; in fact, I don't believe I could be anything else." "Jim! Dorothy, did you ever hear anything like him? Please try to bear with him, for a time, for my sake." The father of the pair managed to get in a word. "I trust, Miss Gilbert, that this is not a flying visit you are paying us, but that you have come to stay some time." Dorothy's was a stammering answer. "I--I hardly know; my--my movements are uncertain." Miss Vernon echoed her last word. "Uncertain!--but, my dear child, what I'm dying to know is what favouring wind of providence it was which blew you here. When did you come?" "Last night." "Last night!--at what ever time?" "It was very late." "It must have been. You see that houseboat by the paddock there?--that's ours; sometimes some of us sleep in it, and sometimes none of us do--last night we three did--but we never started till quite late, and you weren't here then. Why ever didn't you let me know that you were coming? I'd never have gone to that silly old houseboat if I had." "I didn't know that I was coming till--till I'd almost come." "My dear child!--what do you mean? You must have made up your mind in a hurry, or--did your guardian make it up for you? Did Mr Emmett bring you?"