"It will be an excellent opportunity to break her of this Suffrage nonsense." She caught McTaggart's look of alarm. "Don't be afraid--I'm a capital nurse--I mean, of course, when she's convalescent. What she wants now is rest and sleep--and good food. Did you say they hadn't a cook?" "I don't think so--I understand she left, furious, on the day Mrs. Uniacke went to prison." "I don't blame her." The silk dress rustled. "Then there's only that slatternly housemaid left to help Jill?" "So I gather--unless Stephen condescends to black the boots!" "Ha!" The little lady snorted--"So _he's_ about still, is he?" McTaggart was conscious of a slip. He wished he hadn't mentioned the man. "I can't say. I know he's at large. I don't fancy prison fare appeals to him--he's rather dainty." "Not a friend of yours, I see." Miss Uniacke's bright eyes surveyed him almost lovingly--"Well--he won't enter that house while I'm there," she decided tartly. "Now, to business"--she went on, after a pause, "I'll shut up the flat as soon as I can. I always do for the Summer months and it's only a few weeks earlier--and take both my maids with me. Anyhow, until I can get the house in order and find a cook for Mary. Maria's a good nurse. She's been with me eighteen years and Mrs. Belsey understands invalid soups--she's an excellent woman and a strict teetotaller. So you can set your mind at rest--about Jill, I mean." She smiled as McTaggart rose to his feet. "Come and see us when you like. I'm very much obliged to you. It's not often nowadays you find young men with any sense. The world's all upside down, with feeble boys and manly women!" McTaggart held her pretty hand in his beyond the orthodox time. "Perhaps," he asked, "you'd come for a spin now and then in my car?" "And chaperone my niece--eh?" The speech was not without malice. She saw his slightly guilty look and laughed outright. "I understand--I was young once myself, you see." "Aunt Elizabeth--you're a brick!" He dared the familiarity with his charming smile. "Well--of all the impertinence!" her thin cheeks flushed a little. "We'll see. I make no rash promises. I shall try and get to Mary on Friday." Her face suddenly clouded over. "I'm glad now poor Edward's gone. It's a bad business for the children." McTaggart felt immensely sorry. He saw she took it keenly to heart. "I suppose"--his voice was very gentle--"you wouldn't care..." he hesitated--"to come and dine with me to-night--if you're disengaged--have nothing better? I'm only just back from abroad and find so many friends away. Won't you take pity on my loneliness?" The little lady was inwardly flattered, but she laughed aside the invitation. "Nonsense!--it's very kind, I'm sure ... but you don't want an old woman like me!" "I do"--he smiled back at her. "Say you will?" He saw her glance furtively at the clock beyond. "There's loads of time--I'll change and return to fetch you. What about a theatre?"