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"All right," said d.i.c.ky obediently.
As he left the hall he said something in a low voice to Mrs. Carmyle.
That small champion of the oppressed nodded comprehendingly, and established herself at a writing-table under the curtained window.
"Abel," enquired Lady Adela, in pursuance of her policy of once more clearing the decks for action, "what have you done with Mr. Rylands?"
"I quite forgot him," confessed Mr. Mainwaring. "I was so much occupied with Miss Welwyn. I fear he is still in the smoking-room."
"Go and let him out--by the side door," commanded Lady Adela.
"Come on, Dad!" said d.i.c.ky.
Father and son disappeared, arm-in-arm; Lady Adela and Sylvia closed in upon the flinching Miss Welwyn; and Mrs. Carmyle, taking up her pen, addressed herself to the composition of an epistle to her lord and master.
Lady Adela looked round, and remarked in solicitous tones:--
"Constance, dear, you have chosen a very draughty corner for yourself."
"I have put fresh note-paper in your bedroom, Connie," added Sylvia cordially.
"I'm as right as rain, thanks," said Connie. "Just scribbling a line to Bill."
And she began:--
_I have arrived quite safely, old man, and the most tremendously exciting things are happening here. Listen!_
CHAPTER XIV
ANOTHER COSY CHAT, WITH AN INTERRUPTION
I
_The victim_, continued Connie presently, _is now upon the sofa, wedged in between the Chief Ogress and the a.s.sistant Tormentor. She is scared out of her wits, poor thing, but has stood up to the pair of them splendidly so far_.
"It was good of you to come down to this poky little corner of the country, Miss Welwyn," Lady Adela was saying, handing Tilly a second cup of tea. "It is so nice when one's friends take one as they find one, is it not?"
Tilly, wide-eyed and quaking, was understood to a.s.sent to this proposition.
"You live in town, I understand?" continued Lady Adela cautiously.
Tilly took a deep breath, and began:--
"Yes--in Russell Square. The house," she continued rapidly, "is very old-fashioned. It belonged to my grandfather. My father inherited from him, and we have lived there ever since we left Cambridge. We have often talked of leaving, but Dad says he can't bear transplanting at his time of life. So," concluded Tilly, with an hysterical little gasp--Lady Adela and Sylvia were listening with the dispa.s.sionate immobility of a pair of well-nourished sphinxes--"we just stay on."
_She has confessed that she lives in Bloomsbury_, wrote Mrs. Carmyle.
_The Inquisition are one up_.
"Russell Square!" cooed Lady Adela. "How charming and old-fashioned!
So handy for the British Museum, too!"
"And Euston Road!" added Sylvia enthusiastically.
_Cats! Cats!! Cats!!!_ recorded Connie furiously.
Lady Adela offered Tilly a bun, and resumed her long-distance fire.
"You are quite a small family, I imagine?"
"Well," began Tilly readily--they had reached a topic that lay very near her heart--"there are Father and Mother, of course, and my brother Percy, and my sister, and two quite tiny ones. My grandmother--"
"How nice," murmured Lady Adela indulgently, closing her eyes as if to mitigate the strain of this enumeration. "And what is your little sister's name?"
"Amelia."
"Amelia? Delightful! Perfect! It suits Russell Square exactly."
"One feels," corroborated Sylvia, "as if the Sedleys and the Osbornes and the Rawdon Crawleys all lived next door."
_Why don't they smack people like Sylvia more in their youth?_ enquired Mrs. Carmyle's letter plaintively.
"I don't think we have met any of _them_," said Miss Welwyn doubtfully.
"The Mossops live on one side of us and the Rosenbaums on the other. We don't call on them, of course," she added apprehensively. "And oh, Lady Adela, I have an invitation for you from my mother, to come and have tea with us."
"That is very kind of your mother," said Lady Adela graciously. "You shall give me the invitation when you have unpacked your boxes."
"It's--it's not a written invitation," said Tilly. "Mother just asked me to ask you, any day you happen to be coming into town. Then you would meet my father and the others."
"That will be charming," replied Lady Adela. "I think we have no engagement on Monday." (_Lady A. is simply bursting with curiosity about the girl's family_, observed Connie at this point.) "I will write a little note to your mother, and you shall take it back with you on Monday morning. Are you the eldest of the family?"
"No. Perce--Percy is the eldest. He is twenty-two."
"Is he at the University?"
Miss Welwyn shook her head.
"Not now," she said. She spoke with more freedom. The restraint of her surroundings was wearing off, and her courage, which was considerable, was beginning to a.s.sert itself. "He is in the City. He dislikes it very much, poor boy. He is so fond of open-air sports, and he finds an office very trying. My father was a great sportsman, too. He used to go racing a good deal at one time, but he has given it up now. He says he is on the shelf."
"And he was a Fellow of his College, I think you said?" remarked Lady Adela, a little bored with this prattle.
"Yes--Fellow and Tutor."
"But he is no longer in residence, you say?"
"No," said Tilly briefly.