Mademoiselle Ottilie pleaded a headache, and her brother also invented an excuse for being absent.
"You would like to be together," he had said confidentially in Bob's ear.
"They are very charming and considerate," said Mrs. Dashwood when Bob told her. "I do not care very much for Belgians, as a rule, but the Van Drissels are exceptionally nice people."
Dennis said nothing, but he had his own thoughts. He did not like mademoiselle's bright black eyes, and the lieutenant's perpetual smile had begun to get on his nerves.
Mrs. Dashwood had kept up very bravely, though her heart was sad enough in all conscience, and when eleven o'clock struck, and Dennis, who had been living at high pressure, suddenly yawned and said: "Would you mind, mater, if I turned in? I'm as tired as a dog." Mrs. Dashwood made no demur, but signed to her eldest son to remain a little longer.
"Come into the drawing-room, Bob," she said, when they heard Dennis close his bedroom door with a bang. "I have a letter from your father which I want you to read. I did not show it to Dennis because he is excited enough already."
"Any news, dear?" questioned the captain as they seated themselves on the great padded settee, into which one sank so luxuriously that one never wanted to get out of it again.
"Yes, there is news. I suppose he has really told me more than he ought to have done. The date of the Great Push is fixed. But here is the letter; it only came this evening, and you can read it aloud to me."
As he did so, Captain Bob's eyebrows lifted, for the brigadier had been remarkably outspoken.