Bundle rose to her feet. She had done all she could here. Now to get on with things! She went in search of her father.
"I'm off again," she said. "I've got to go and see Aunt Marcia."
"Got to see Marcia?" Lord Caterham's voice was full of astonishment. "Poor child, how did you get let in for that?"
"Just for once," said Bundle, "I happen to be going of my own free will."
Lord Caterham looked at her in amazement. That anyone could have a genuine desire to face his redoubtable sister-in-law was quite incomprehensible to him. Marcia, Marchioness of Caterham, the widow of his late brother Henry, was a very prominent personality. Lord Caterham admitted that she had made Henry an admirable wife and that but for her in all probability he would never have held the office of Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. On the other hand, he had always looked upon Henry's early death as a merciful release.
It seemed to him that Bundle was foolishly putting her head into the lion's mouth.
"Oh! I say," he said. "You know, I shouldn't do that. You don't know what it may lead to."
"I know what I hope it's going to lead to," said Bundle. "I'm all right, Father, don't you worry about me."
Lord Caterham sighed and settled himself more comfortably in his chair. He went back to his perusal of the Field. But in a minute or two Bundle suddenly put her head in again.
"Sorry," she said. "But there's one other thing I wanted to ask you. What is Sir Oswald Coote?"