"Come in," said Leicester, thinking it was his valet; "you are a nice, active body servant, William. I'm half dressed, and——Hello! it's you, is it?" he broke off as Bertie entered the room.
"Yes; you've cut your face, old fellow."
"Thank you for nothing; my glass told me that," said Leicester. "I never could shave myself, and William hasn't condescended to get up. I couldn't lie in bed such a morning as this, and you couldn't either, evidently."
"No," said Bertie, eagerly. "I say, Les, what a day this would be for the yachting trip."
Leicester smiled.
"Wind's in the right quarter for a good blow," he said.
"I wonder now," said Bertie, hesitatingly, "if Mrs. Mildmay would like a——"
"You mean Lady Ethel," interrupted Leicester, with a smile.
Bertie's frank face flushed.
"Well, both of them," he said. "Suppose you ride over to the lodge and bring Fitz and her over here while I go down to the Park and ask Mrs. Mildmay and the captain, and of course Miss Violet."