the pine-wood till
tea-time. I wonder if Jimmy would mind us going into Midhurst with the
car. We shouldn't hurt it, sitting in it."

We lay out in the pine-wood till we heard the bell for tea, which we
had ordered a little before four, in case Jevons should wire for the
car to meet him by the early afternoon train that got to Midhurst at
four-sixteen.

The table was set as usual in the garden on the lawn in front of the
house.

By four o'clock no wire had come from Jevons; so we knew we needn't
expect him till a later train. He nearly always came by Waterloo and
Petersfield and was met at Midhurst, which gave him his public. But he
might come, as Viola had gone, by Victoria and Horsham and be met
at Selham.

I remember saying, in a startling manner as the idea struck me,
"Supposing he comes by Victoria?"

And Norah said, "What if he does?"

And I, "They might meet at Horsham."

"Why shouldn't they?" she said. "You don't suppose he'll eat her for
running up to town?"

"He might," I said, "think it odd of her."

"Not he. The beauty of Jimmy is that odd things don't seem odd to him. Do
you know where Charlie is?"

I didn't. We had finished tea before either of us had thought of him. We
shouted to him through the open windows of the house, for Charlie had a
habit of mooning about indoors till Viola was ready to walk with him.

No answer came to our summons, but it brought Parker, the butler, out on
to the lawn. He had a slightly surprised and slightly embarrassed look on
his respectable and respectful face, no longer demoralized by Jimmy.

"Were you looking for the Captain, sir?" he said.

I said we were.

Something grave and a little sorrowful came into Parker's embarrassed
look.

"Didn't you know he'd gone, sir?"

I said I didn't even know he was going; and then I saw Norah looking at
me.

Parker was trying not to look at Norah. He began gathering up the
tea-things as if to justify his presence and explain it.

"When did he go?" I said as casually as I could.

"Well, sir--the cab was ordered to catch the four thirty-five from
Midhurst."

Now the four thirty-five from Midhurst is the four forty-five from
Selham, the train that Viola had gone by. We knew this; and Parker knew
that we knew it. That was why, instead of stating outright that Captain
Thesiger had gone by that train, he tried to soften the blow to us by
saying that the cab had been ordered to catch it, and leaving it open to
us to