“It’s too long to leave him, Bern.”

“You left your cats.”

“Ubi and Archie have each other for company. Besides, Fred from across the hall is going to pop in once a day to feed and water them. I’d have done the same for Raffles, but since you invited me along-”

“I know.”

She patted my hand. “Incidentally,” she said, “I really appreciate it, Bern. It’s great of you to bring me.”

“Well, I didn’t want to go by myself.”

“I guess that wouldn’t be much fun.”

“I’d go nuts,” I said. “Just sitting around twiddling my thumbs, waiting for the scones to clot.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the cream, Bern.”

“Whatever. You’re my best friend, Carolyn. There’s nobody I’d rather be taking to Cuttleford House.”

“That’s a sweet thing to say, Bernie. Even if it’s not exactly true.”

“What do you mean?”

“ Bern,” she said, “let’s have a quick reality check here, okay? A romantic weekend at an English country house in the dead of winter-”

“Some dead of winter. It’s March already. It’s almost spring.”

“Forget the calendar, Bern. It’s too cold to go for a walk in the woods. There’ll be a fire on the hearth and frost on the counterpane.”

“A counterpane’s like a bedspread,” I said, “and I hope there won’t be any frost on ours.”

“Well, you know what I mean. Now go ahead and tell me you wouldn’t rather be spending the weekend with a beautiful woman.”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Carolyn.”

“I’m reasonably attractive,” she allowed, “but I think beautiful is stretching it. Anyway, that’s beside the point. You don’t want a woman who’s apt to lose her head over some sweet young thing like Sherry Trifle. You want a woman who’ll lose her head over you.”

“Some other time,” I said. “Right now all I want is a friend.”