The victim was removed, protesting inarticulately at the mirthful ministrations still insisted upon by his sister.
Everyone was conscious of relief, and Lady Rossiter said tolerantly, "Poor little boy!"
"He feels the wedding dreadfully," Iris observed.
"Feels the wedding?"
"Yes, you know, he's afraid that it means losing me. I've always been so much with the dear kiddie-widdies."
"You've always been very fond of them, my dear, and they of you," said Mark gratefully.
"I should have liked little Peekaboo for a page," said Iris sentimentally, "but he's just the wrong size. And besides, poor darling, he hasn't got his front teeth. Ruthie's bridesmaid frock has come, Lady Rossiter."
Under cover of the polite interest evinced by Edna at the information, her husband made his escape from the room.
He and Mark, smoking in the garden, turned with undisguised relief from the topic of the hour, and discussed instead the affairs of Culmouth College.
"What about this Gloucester business? Old Bellew is patting himself on the back all right. He thinks there's likely to be an opening in Cardiff, too."