Lord Oxted was a cynic in a certain mild and kindly fashion.
"Certainly promise," he said. "And, being a woman, you will probably at the very back of your mind—the very back, I say—reserve to yourself the right to break it if it becomes inconvenient to keep it."
"Don't be rude, Bob. I think I shall promise, but at the same time write to Mrs. Aylwin."
Her husband chuckled quietly.
"That is precisely what I meant," he said, "only I did not put the reservation quite so far forward in your mind. Did the two young people get on well together?"
"Too well. Harry has developed an amazing knack of getting on well with people. And he is coming to us for the Sunday."
"Then most likely you are already too late. You should have thought of these things before, Violet. Your after-thoughts, it is true, are often admirable, but, so to speak, they never catch the train. Bear this also in mind: if anything happens, if the two get engaged, we shall be liable at any moment to a crushing descent from Mrs. Aylwin. If she comes, I go. That is all."
"But she is charming."
"And completely overpowering. I will not be made to feel like a child in my own house. Dear me, you have probably got into a mess, Violet. Good-night, dear."
"You agree with me, then?" she asked.