“My dear Gladys, must we go through all this in front of Janet! She can see I’m not wasting away; you’ll embarrass the poor girl so that she’ll eat her pudding unsweetened.”

Gladys set her mouth and said no more. Janet thought of her wonderingly. She did not know much about men, but she would have thought that Donald was the last sort of man to like being fussed over, or did all men? Perhaps he was only, pretending he didn’t because she was there. Well, Gladys was in love with him, she ought to know.

The telephone rang just as they finished eating. Donald answered it; he came back and grinned at Iris.

“It’s Barbara, she’s asked you to tea.” He glanced over to Janet. “She met Sheila this morning and heard you were here; the invitation is for you too. I said I thought you could go. Is that all right? We look on Barbara as almost a relation, and Iris likes being with her; she hasn’t been able to go there much for we’ve had no one to send, for, of course, Gladys is usually busy.”

“I’ll be delighted.” Janet remembered the kick and turned to Gladys with what she hoped was the perfect manner. “If it’s all right with you, Miss Batten.”

Evidently what took Janet and Iris away from the house was more than all right with Gladys; her tone was graciousness itself.

“I don’t mind at all, it’s good for Iris to see more people.”

While Iris was resting, Janet, who had no wish for a tête-à-tête with Gladys, walked through the yard and out through the back gate to a lane. Across the lane was another gate, and inside it Donald was discussing something with one of his men. The last thing Janet wanted was to be seen loitering about the farm, so she made a pretence of glancing round to get her bearings, then turned and hurried back the way she had come. She had not taken many steps when she heard Donald call her.

“Janet! Janet!” She stopped. His manner was awkward and abrupt. “I say, you were a sport to shut up when I kicked you. Gladys is simply splendid, but she’s not very good with a child. I want you to change things and all that, but for goodness’ sake avoid a rumpus; if you think that something different has got to be done give me warning and I’ll back you, but easy does it. Got it?”

She nodded. Then, as embarrassed as he, for to reopen the subject of money was horrifying to her, she blurted out:

“I’ll need some money, Iris has no books or anything.”

“Right, leave a chit on my desk saying how much and I’ll have it ready for you in the morning.”