Irene turned to answer him, and Soames saw Bosinney watching her and smiling to himself. A curious smile the fellow had. A half-simple arrangement, like a child who smiles when he is pleased. As for George’s nickname⁠—“The Buccaneer”⁠—he did not think much of that. And, seeing Bosinney turn to June, Soames smiled too, but sardonically⁠—he did not like June, who was not looking too pleased.

This was not surprising, for she had just held the following conversation with James:

“I stayed on the river on my way home, Uncle James, and saw a beautiful site for a house.”

James, a slow and thorough eater, stopped the process of mastication.

“Eh?” he said. “Now, where was that?”

“Close to Pangbourne.”

James placed a piece of ham in his mouth, and June waited.

“I suppose you wouldn’t know whether the land about there was freehold?” he asked at last. “ You wouldn’t know anything about the price of land about there?”

“Yes,” said June; “I made inquiries.” Her little resolute face under its copper crown was suspiciously eager and aglow.

James regarded her with the air of an inquisitor.

“What? You’re not thinking of buying land!” he ejaculated, dropping his fork.

June was greatly encouraged by his interest. It had long been her pet plan that her uncles should benefit themselves and Bosinney by building country-houses.

“Of course not,” she said. “I thought it would be such a splendid place for⁠—you or⁠—someone to build a country-house!”