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flushed with embarrassment, ‘what are you trying to do now? Oh, I know,” he stemmed her protest, “that little scene was intended to produce some sort of reaction, unless I’m very much mistaken. I’m not such a complete fool as to miss that fact—and neither, I may add, is John.” He put an arm round each of their shoulders and looked from one to the other with his shrewd eyes. “Now what are you two girls up to?”
    “Oh, Katie isn’t up to anything,” Fran admitted honestly. “It’s all my idea; Katie doesn’t want to hurt John’s feelings.”
    Sir Janus tightened his arm on Katie’s shoulders in a brief hug. “I’m glad to hear that one of you has some consideration,” he said, frowning at his granddaughter. “And you would do better to leave John to handle his own affairs in his own way, Fran. Don’t interfere.”
    “What did I do?” Fran turned ingenuous eyes to him. “I only told him that we’d seen la Barlow lunching with a rather gorgeous man.”
    “Then let that be sufficient,” Sir Janus told her. “Don’t mention it again to John or anyone else.” He hugged them both briefly and looked at the heap on the long settee. “What on earth have you been buying in Sea Bar? I shall be surprised if Barner’s aren’t bereft of stock after your little expedition!”
    Eleanor Barlow was momentarily forgotten as they opened their purchases and spread them over the settee, so engrossed that Fran failed to notice John return. He flicked a brief glance at them from the comer of his eye and drew his grandfather aside to speak to him quietly, out of earshot of the girls. Sir Janus nodded his head at whatever he was told and put a hand briefly on the younger man’s shoulder, almost in a gesture of caution, Katie thought, casting them a surreptitious glance. She had a tingling, unpleasantly cold sensation in her stomach that made her anxious, though she could not have said why.
    Aunt Cora was delighted with the dainty gloves that Katie had brought her from Sea Bar. “They’re lovely, Katherine!” The new and unaccustomed softness about her aunt pleased her; in the last few weeks she had become quite fond of the old lady and liked to bring her a small gift whenever she went shopping with Fran.
    “They’ll go with your grey coat, I thought,” Katie said.
    “They will,” her aunt agreed, turning her hands over to admire the gloves. “Thank you, my dear.”
    “Thank you,” Katie smiled at her. “It’s a small return for all you’ve done for me.”
    “Did you enjoy yourself?” Aunt Cora asked. “I know you usually do when you go with Fran.”
    “We always do,” said Katie, and frowned slightly, remembering Fran’s unkindness to her cousin.
    “Did you see anyone you knew?” Her aunt always asked the same question and usually Katie’s answer was negative.
    “Yes,” her frown puzzled her aunt. “Eleanor Barlow was in Earner’s when we were having lunch.”
    “Oh,” the old lady nodded understanding, knowing Katie’s dislike of the woman. “With John Miller?”
    “No. No, she wasn’t,” Katie shook her head. “She was with a man from the ‘Kismet’, the place Jamie took me to the other night. I think he must be the manager of the place or something.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Fran finds him quite attractive, but to me—” she pulled a face, “I don’t know; I just don’t like the look of him.”
    Aunt Cora raised her eyebrows queryingly. “But if you don’t like the woman, Katherine, surely it shouldn’t worry you if she chooses to lunch with an undesirable character like this man.”
    “No.” Katie wished the persistent feeling of uneasiness would go. “But you see, Eleanor Barlow has been seeing quite a lot of John—John Miller lately, and both Fran and Jamie think it may be serious.” She shook her head, as if to rid herself of some unwelcome thought. “Well, you know Fran and Jamie?” she smiled wryly. “They’ll stop at nothing to cause