nearer way out of the park. And the walk home was a great deal shorter, too, than the walk out had been.
The sky had clouded over while they were in the Temple of Flora, and the first spots of rain fell as they got back to the house, very late indeed for tea.
Mademoiselle was looking out of the window, and came herself to open the door.
"But it is that you are in lateness, in lateness!" she cried. "You have had a misfortune—no? All goes well?"
"We are very sorry indeed," said Gerald. "It took us longer to get home than we expected. I do hope you haven't been anxious. I have been thinking about you most of the way home."
"Go, then," said the French lady, smiling; "you shall have them in the same time—the tea and the supper."
Which they did.
"How could you say you were thinking about her all the time?" said a voice just by Gerald's ear, when Mademoiselle had left them alone with the bread and butter and milk and baked apples. "It was just as much a lie as me being adopted by a motor lady."
"No, it wasn't," said Gerald, through bread and butter. "I was thinking about whether she'd be in a wax or not. So there!"
There were only three plates, but Jimmy let Mabel have his, and shared with Kathleen. It was rather horrid to see the bread
