Ledwith took it: "I suppose I shall not see you again?" "I'm going to town this afternoon. Good-bye." Looking back at the turn of the path he saw Ledwith, bent nearly double, terribly intent on his half-bared arm. Returning in time for luncheon he encountered Sir Charles fresh from the river, and Chrysos prettily sun-burned, just entering the house. "We broke down," said the girl; "I thought we'd never get back, but Sir Charles is quite wonderful and he mended that very horrid machinery with the point of a file. Think of it, Ricky!--the point of a file!" Sir Charles laughed and explained the simplicity of the repairs; and Chrysos, not a whit less impressed, stared at him out of her pretty golden eyes with a gaze perilously resembling adoration. Afterward, by the bay-window upstairs, Quarren said lightly to Molly: "How about the little Lacy girl and the Baronet?" "She's an idiot," said Molly, shortly. "I'm afraid she is." "Of course she is. I wish I hadn't asked her. Why, she goes about like a creature in a trance when Sir Charles is away.... I don't know whether to say anything to her or whether to write to her mother. She's slated for Roger O'Hara." "I don't suppose her parents would object to Sir Charles," said Quarren, smiling. "That's why I hesitate to write. Sir Charles is in love with Strelsa; anybody can see that and everybody knows it. And it isn't likely that a child like Chrysos could swerve him." "Then you'd better send him or her away, hadn't you?" "I don't know what to do," said Molly, vexed. "June is to be quiet and peaceful at Witch-Hollow, and Sir Charles wanted to be here and Mrs. Lacy asked me to have Chrysos because she needed the quiet and calm. And _look_ what she's done!" "It's probably only a young girl's fancy." "Then it ought to be nipped in the bud. But her mother wants her here and Sir Charles wants to be here and if I write to her mother she'll let her remain anyway. I'm cross, Ricky. I'm tired, too--having dictated letters and signed checks until my head aches. Where have you been?" "Prowling." "Well, luncheon is nearly ready, and Strelsa isn't back. Are you going to New York this afternoon?" "Yes." "Please don't." "I think it's better," he said lightly. "All right. Run away if you want to. Don't say another word to me; I'm irritated." Luncheon was not very gay; Chrysos adored Sir Charles in silence, but so sweetly and unobtrusively that the Baronet was totally unaware of it. Molly, frankly out of temper, made no effort of any sort; her husband in his usual rude health and spirits talked about the Stinger to everybody. Strelsa, who had arrived late, and whose toilet made her later still, seemed inclined to be rather cheerful and animated, but received little encouragement from Molly.