"Then I guess----" "Poppa, sit down and have some tea," said his daughter, quietly but firmly.
He sat down without a word, took his cup of tea and a slice of bread and butter; listened in silence as long as he could bear the entirely feminine conversation on a subject in which he hadn't the remotest interest, and then he put his cup down with a little jerk, got up with a bigger one, and said, holding out his hand to Miss Nitocris: "Well, Miss Marmion, I shall have to say good afternoon.

You see we've only just reached this side, and I've got quite a lot of things to attend to.

Bring your father along to dinner to-morrow night, if you can; I shall be glad to meet him again.

You needn't be afraid: we shan't shoot." When he had gone, Brenda rang and ordered the motor-car to be ready in half an hour.

Then they finished their tea and talk, and Brenda and Nitocris went and put on their wraps--not the imitation of the mediaeval armour which is used for serious motor-driving, but just dust-cloaks and mushrooms, both of which Brenda lent to her friend.