CHAPTER THREEWhen the horses were finally taken away, the party went in for tea.
It was served in the drawing room and there was a lavish provision of cakes, scones and chocolate biscuits.
Neisa thought that it was a spread she would like to produce at home for her father.
Carol, who had been watching the horses in a rather detached manner, was sitting a little outside the circle.
A young gentleman who she had been told was Sir Peter Jackson joined her.
“I can see,” he commented wryly, as he sat down, “that you are not as ecstatic over horses as your cousin.”
“I enjoy riding very much,” replied Carol, “but I am not obsessed by it.”
“Quite right, Miss Moore. I have another interest too and I find it difficult to think of anything else.”
Carol thought he was talking more to himself
