The day before, to protect Ramsay and to get him away where she could warn him, and try to make him behave, she had snatched half an hour from the rushing day and taken him to the graperies. He had drawn her into his arms and held her in spite of the fact that the gardener was in the next glass house and talking across to Mrs. Hereford. Ramsay had said over the man’s voice and over the scent of violets: “I love you terribly--with every bit of me--thank God I was not smashed up in France before I could tell you this!” Now she knew he would think of every moment of this. She could never go into those graperies again without a thrill. Her husband was going to town on the yacht and came in smoking and holding out two _one-thousand-dollar_ bills. “Nell, I want Patricia to have some pocket money in her dressing case. Slip these in, will you?” “Tommy,” exclaimed his wife, “you never stop, do you?” “I am glad I don’t _have_ to stop,” said the father, “when it is the case of doing something for my little girl.” “I’ll put them in this little leather purse,” said Mrs. Hereford and she took up the little pocketbook. “Pat says she is going to take it with her, Tommy, and she’ll be frightfully pleased.” He gave her the bills, and Mrs. Hereford slipped them into the little purse. “Going to leave it there around loose like that?” asked the business man. “Why not? Jones’ men will be here in a minute. Think of the things farther along and what they are worth. There is no one here but ourselves.” Through the other doorway Jack Hereford and Ralph Ramsay came in together. Since he had been at Waybrook, Ramsay had never seen the husband and wife alone together. He stopped short on the threshold, but the son went in. “I’ve not been robbing the graperies,” Ramsay said. “These are going in your daughter’s lunch basket, Mr. Hereford.” “I dare say,” nodded the father. “Everything goes with Pat!” “Look what dad has just given her.” Mrs. Hereford held up the purse and the bills. “I am putting them in this little pigskin purse so that if she wants to buy some stamps she’ll find them handy.” Jack looked at his father’s last generous gift without a word, turned about and went and stood at the window. The piper, who felt he had done as much as his salary demanded, was silent. With his back to the house he gazed beyond the Sound toward the bonnie hills of Scotland. Ramsay seemed to appreciate the generosity, however. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “Wonderful to be able to do things like that for one’s children!” And he looked from the husband to the wife, but his tone was bitter. Mrs. Hereford had never heard a note like this in his voice. As her husband went out of the room and his son slowly followed him, Mrs. Hereford asked Ramsay: “Why did you speak so bitterly when my husband gave Patricia his parting gift? It was not like you!”