"He's a perfect cherub," she assured him warmly. "Any one could manage
him--even when he has an attack of high spirits. He's got a mouth like
velvet."
"There's something to be said for the driver's hands, possibly," suggested
Coventry, with a smile. "Light hands make a light mouth. Still, I'm glad to
know he suits you."
He whistled up his dog, who came racing to heel, then, with a grave bow
which briefly included Mrs. Hilyard, lifted his hat and resumed his way
along the lane.
Ann drove on, and ten minutes later pulled her horse up at the Priory
doors. Mrs. Hilyard stepped lightly out of the trap. She moved beautifully,
with a deer-like ease and grace.
"Now when will you and your brother come over to lunch?" she asked, as she
shook hands. "He promised--for you both--to come and help me with advice
about arranging my rooms. You must go on as you've begun--being
neighbourly, you know," she added quaintly.
"But we shall be cut out now by an older friend," said Ann, when they had
fixed a day for the lunch appointment.
"Oh, no"--quickly. "No man can take the place of a woman friend--and I hope
you're going to be that?"
Ann smiled down into the lovely upraised face with frank comradeship.
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