In this stately paradise, warmed by sunny September weather, Jimmie had already spent two or three blissful days. His only regret was the absence of Aline. She had been invited, but for reasons in which doubtless Tony Merewether had a place, she had declined the invitation. She gave Jimmie to understand that she had already had her holiday, that the house could not possibly look after itself any longer, and that she had no clothes fit to appear in among his grand friends. The last argument being unanswerable, save by contentions at which the young woman tossed a superior head, Jimmie had yielded and come down alone. His regret, however, was tempered by the reflection that Aline was probably enjoying herself after the manner of betrothed maidens, and it did not seriously affect his happiness. Either chance or the lady's own sweet courtesy towards a guest had caused him to see much of Norma. She had driven him over to Chiltern Towers, where the sittings had begun. She had walked with him to Cosford to show him the beautiful fourteenth-century church with its decorated spire. She had strolled with him up and down the croquet lawn. She had chatted with him in the morning-room yesterday for a whole rainy hour after lunch. His head was full of her beauty and condescension. It was not unnatural that they should be thrown much together. Morland's day was taken up by partridges and electors. Mr. Hardacre, honestly afraid of Jimmie, not knowing what on earth to talk to him about, and only half comprehending his conversation, kept out of his way as much as his duties as host would allow, and Mrs. Hardacre, who, though exceedingly civil, had not forgotten her defeat in the studio, felt justified in leaving his entertainment in the hands of others who professed to admire the creature. These were Norma, Morland, and Connie Deering. This afternoon they found themselves again alone together, at tea in the classic temple at the end of the terrace. Mrs. Hardacre and Connie had driven off to pay a call, and the men were shooting over ducal turnips. Jimmie had received an invitation to join the shooting-party, but not having handled a gun since boyish days (and even then Jimmie with firearms was Morland's conception of the terror that walketh by day), and also having an appointment with the princess for a second sitting, he had declined, and Morland, when he heard of it, had clapped him on the back and expressed his fervent gratitude.