"Where's Cecily?"
"I left her on the lawn," said Harry, frowning hard but eating heartily.
"You've told her?"
"Yes, I've told her."
"And what did she say?" The Imp's utterance was jerky from her perturbation.
"Look here, Mina, mightn't you go and ask her? It's a long story, and I'm deuced hungry, you know."
Mina needed no further permission. She rose and flew. Neeld, though uncertain what was expected of him, sat on, nervously eating gooseberries—a fruit which rarely agreed with him. Harry drank a second glass of champagne and his brow relaxed, although he was still thoughtful.
"I—I hope all has gone well?" Neeld ventured to inquire.
"I scarcely know. The interview took rather an unexpected turn." He spoke as though the development had surprised him and he could hardly trace how it had come about. "The whole thing will be settled very soon," he added. "Have a glass of port, Mr Neeld? It'll do you more good than those gooseberries."
Neeld laid a ready hand on the decanter, as he asked,