“Yes you do.” He moved a little nearer. “You’ve got to keep next Sunday for me. It’s my turn. We’ll have a splendid day. We’ll take Peter, and we’ll start early and fly down to the New Forest. It’s glorious in the autumn. We’ll have a picnic-lunch, and tea at an hotel on the way back. So that’s settled.” He got up, and lifted her ulster from the back of a chair. “Now come along, and we’ll slip home before it gets late enough to cause trouble.” Hal let it pass for the time, and got into her ulster. She was clever enough to see the advantage of retaining a way of escape if she changed her mind, or accepting the invitation if she wanted to later on. She knew perfectly well a girl did not always go out for a whole day with a man like Sir Edwin with impunity; but she had also something of contempt for a girl who missed a great treat for want of pluck. She preferred to leave the question open, and if she badly wanted to go at the end of the week she would not, at any rate, stay away because she was afraid. As it happened, circumstances played into Sir Edwin Crathie’s hands. About Wednesday, with a diffidence that made Hal secretly amused and secretly curious, Dudley asked her if she would mind if he was away for the whole day on Sunday. As she was generally away herself as long as the summer lasted, she wondered why he should ask her in that manner. It was just as they had finished breakfast, and he busied himself with his pipe-rack as he made the announcement. “Of course I don’t mind,” she said. “Are you going into the country?” “Ye-es.” He seemed about to add something further, but changed his mind. Hal, with a little inward chuckle, divined by his manner he must be going somewhere with a lady, and she was pleased, as she liked a man to have woman friends, believing they made him more broad-minded and tolerant and generous-hearted if well-chosen. She asked no further question, however, and Dudley commenced to whistle softly as he drew on his boots. Evidently his mind was somewhat relieved after the sentence was said. So now it remained to discover Dick’s attitude. She could, of course, quite easily put him off; but she was not quite prepared to do this of her own initiative, as he had so generously placed all his Sundays at her disposal. On Friday, however, he was speaking to her through the telephone. “I say, Hal, you’re coming to the Footer match tomorrow, aren’t you?” “Yes, of course I am. Why?...” “Well, it’s just this way. I was going to motor the pater to Aunt Judith’s, and I forgot all about it. He wants me to take him on Sunday instead. What shall I do?... Would you care to come too?” Hal had not the smallest wish to go to Aunt Judith’s, who belonged to the old school, and disapproved in a most outspoken manner of lady-clerks of every sort and description. It was a constant grievance to her, when she set eyes on Hal,that she did not gratefully accept £20 as secretary to a well-known, interesting editor.