You don't want them ?" A shrill disclaimer and a fresh onslaught.

"Miss Turner, they thank you very much, but they don't care for apricots." Half a second more and Dick skilfully parted from his bicycle and was charged by his two admirers and severely pummelled as high as they could reach.

When they had been led away by Miss Turner, each biting an apricot and casting longing backward looks at their friend, Rachel and Dick wandered to the north side of the abbey and sat down there in the shade.
Lord Newhaven could still see them, could still note her amused face under her wide white hat.

He was doing his best for Dick, and Dick was certainly having his chance, and making the most of it according to his lights.
"But, all the same, I don't think he has a chance," said Lord Newhaven to himself.

"That woman, in spite of her frank manner and her self-possession, is afraid of men; not of being married for her money, but of man himself.