Chapter I
On Early Rising
That amiable youth, Jimmy Thesiger, came racing down the big staircase at Chimneys two steps at a time. So precipitate was his descent that he collided with Tredwell, the stately butler, just as the latter was crossing the hall bearing a fresh supply of hot coffee. Owing to the marvellous presence of mind and masterly agility of Tredwell, no casualty occurred.
"Sorry," apologized Jimmy. "I say, Tredwell, am I the last down?"
"No, sir, Mr. Wade has not come down yet."
"Good," said Jimmy, and entered the breakfast-room.
The room was empty save for his hostess, and her reproachful gaze gave Jimmy the same feeling of discomfort he always experienced on catching the eye of a defunct codfish exposed on a fishmonger's slab. Yet, hang it all, why should the woman look at him like that? To come down at a punctual nine-thirty when staying in a country house simply wasn't done. To be sure, it was now a quarter past eleven which was, perhaps, the outside limit, but even then—
"Afraid I'm a bit late, Lady Coote. What?"
"Oh! it doesn't matter," said Lady Coote in a melancholy voice.