“When does mother suggest you should be married?” he asked.
“We more or less settled November. Alan has given up the Civil Service. That’s my first piece of self-assertion. He’s coming for me this morning, and we’re going to lunch at Richmond.”
“You’ve never met Mr. and Mrs. Merivale?”
“Old Merivale’s a ripping old boy. Always making bad puns. And Mrs. Merivale’s a dear.”
“They must both be perfect to have been the father and mother of Alan,” said Stella.
“I shouldn’t get too excited over him,” Michael advised. “Or over yourself, either. You might give me the credit of knowing all about it long before either of you.”
“Darling Michael,” she cried, bounding at him like a puppy.
“When you’ve done making an ass of yourself you might chuck me a roll.”
Alan arrived soon after breakfast, and he and Michael had a few minutes together, while Stella was getting ready to go out.