"Guy, my dear," says Lady Chetwoode from the doorway, "why, what is going on here?" advancing and smiling gently.
"Oh, auntie, I am so glad you have come!" says Lilian, going forward to welcome her: "he would not go down-stairs to you, though I did my best to persuade him. Is he not charming in uniform?"
"He is, indeed. Quite charming! He reminds me very much of what Guy was when first he joined his regiment." Not for a moment does Lady Chetwoode—dear soul—think of improprieties, or wrong-doing, or the "decencies of society." And, watching her, Guy grows gradually ashamed of himself. "It was really selfish of you, my dear Taffy, to deny me a glimpse of you."
"Well, I didn't think you'd care, you know," says Mr. Musgrave, who is positively consumed with pride, and who is blushing like a demoiselle.
"I couldn't resist coming in when I saw you from the doorway. All my people were in the army: so I have quite an affection for it. But Lilian, darling, dinner is almost ready, and you have not yet changed your dress."
"I shan't be a minute," says Lilian; and Guy, lighting a candle, escorts her to her own room, while Lady Chetwoode goes down-stairs.
"Shall I get you the eau de Cologne now?" he asks, pausing on her threshold for a moment.
"If," says Miss Chesney, lowering her eyes with affected shyness, "you are quite sure there would be nothing reprehensible in my accepting it, I should like it very much, thank you. By the bye, that reminds me," glancing at him with a mocking smile, "Lady Chetwoode quite forgot to deliver that small lecture. You, Sir Guy, as my guardian, should have reminded her."