Mrs. Delarayne laughed. "I told you Denis was jealous," she exclaimed. "Knights errant always are. I've always suspected that St. George was jealous of the dragon."
Nevertheless, while Sir Joseph's slow brain was working this out, she snatched a moment to ponder how her noble young friend could possibly have found it necessary to go to such unexpected extremes.
"Don't be unfair, Edith," Sir Joseph objected. "Denis was quite right to tell us. Lord Henry is much too old to kiss a child like Leonetta."
"You mean he is just old enough."
The baronet waved his hands in a mystified manner before him. "I cannot understand you," he replied.
It was at this point that Denis burst in upon them.
"I beg your pardon," he said, "you wanted to discuss something with me, I believe," he added, addressing Sir Joseph.
"Yes, we did,—that is to say, Mrs. Delarayne," stammered the baronet. He was always a little uncomfortable when he felt constrained to be amiable to one of his staff.
"We both wished to speak to you, Denis," said Mrs. Delarayne. "Sit down, will you."
Denis sat down and folded his arms,—a position Mrs. Delarayne had never seen him assume before.