Lady Bell looked from one to the other, from Una’s white, downcast face to Jack’s pale, startled one.
“Una,” she breathed, “what is it?”
But Jack recovered himself.
“Just like you fellows,” he said. “Didn’t you know that you had pitched me on an ants’ nest? What did you say, Lady Bell? I beg your pardon. T don’t think there is much spilled, and there is nothing broken.”
And he knelt down and picked up the cup.
Lady Bell laughed.
“I couldn’t think what was the matter,” she said. “Are you really bitten?”
“Just like Jack,” said Sir Arkroyd, with philosophic calmness. “He is never happy unless he is breaking something. I give you my word that he smashes more glasses at the club than any other man.”
“Always was clumsy,” said Jack, with a constrained laugh.
Lady Bell smiled.