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clipped voice was, as usual, edged with impatience. “She is inclined to be autocratic, I’m afraid.”
    Katie turned from the mirror, her creamy fresh cheeks flushed at the remark aimed at her friend. “Fran is the least autocratic of the Dennisons,” she said hotly, and although she did not name the one most eligible for the honour, her stormy grey eyes left her opinion in no doubt.
    He inclined his head as if he knew her thoughts, the vivid and usually cold blue eyes glinting with something that might have been admiration, and swept her with a gaze that was remarkably like Jamie’s. “If you’re ready, Miss Roberts,” he said, and turned on his heel after a brief salute to her aunt.
    Aunt Cora watched from the doorway as the low, powerful-sounding car slid away from the kerb and roared along Webber Road towards the quay.
    Beside John Miller in the unavoidably close contact of the small car, Katie sat as straight as was possible, trying to avoid contact with his arm as he drove and uncomfortably conscious of the arrogant profile presented to her.
    “I hope it wasn’t inconvenient for you to bring me,” she ventured. “It’s very good of you to trouble ” She felt she would have made more progress with an iceberg, for not one glance did he give her nor make any attempt to smile, but looked straight ahead, as he should, of course, she told herself, when driving at night, but she could not imagine Jamie being so reticent.
    “It was scarcely out of my way,” he said in the same cold, impatient voice, “and since Fran had already organised it, it was out of my hands.”
    “In that case, I’m sorry,” she sounded cross and felt it. “Fran shouldn’t have bothered, I would just as soon be independent.”
    For the first time he turned his head briefly and looked at her, his mouth quirked into a caricature of a smile. “I’m sure you would,” he said, "but the Dennisons like playing things their way, you’ll soon learn.”
    As his brother’s car pulled up in front of the house, Jamie came out and hastened to open the car door for Katie, watched frowningly by his brother. “I had no idea,” he said earnestly, “that big brother was bringing you—I’d have been only too glad to have fetched you myself.” He held her at arm’s length, his gaze enraptured as he looked her up and down. “You look absolutely delectable,” he told her solemnly. “I could eat you here and now! ”
    “There would be more sense if you took Miss Roberts inside and introduced her to people,” his brother said shortly. He flicked a brief glance at them as they stood on the drive before going into the house and Katie saw Fran come towards him.
    “He doesn’t improve with age,” Jamie said sadly, “He’s a real crusty old bachelor, is my big brother.”
    Katie laughed as he put an arm round her shoulders and led her towards the door. “Oh really, Jamie, he hardly qualifies as a crusty old bachelor, surely?” she said. “Just because he’s a few years older than you it scarcely puts him in the Methuselah class.”
    “He’s ten years older than I am,” Jamie said, as if it was a century, “and I’m older than I look.”
    “Oh, you do exaggerate!” she laughed at his solemn face as they came into the brightly lit hall, and she saw Fran start towards them. “You’re twenty-five, only two years older than I am. Fran told me so.”
    “She had no business to give away my secrets,” he protested as his cousin approached them, looking coltishly pretty in a yellow dress that suited her colouring perfectly, and showed off her slim figure to its best advantage. Her usually freckled face was only lightly made up and her long, straight fair hair swept into a flattering style on top of her head that complemented her fine bone structure. She was, Katie realised, a very attractive girl.
    The blue eyes openly admired Katie’s dress as she came up to them. “Oh, Katie,” she said, “you look absolutely gorgeous! That