Miss Henderson spoke from the pessimism of approaching influenza, but it happened that she was right. The first air raid over Questerham took place that night.
The work was rapidly lessening towards eleven o'clock, when Captain Trevellyan came into the hall. He stood for an instant gazing round him reflectively, then said to Grace: "Who is in command here?"
"Mrs. Willoughby, when Miss Vivian isn't here."
"I see, thank you."
Looking very doubtful, he sought Lesbia, who was preparing to discard her overall and to take her departure with the Pekinese.
"Johnnie! How too sweet of you to turn up just in time to see me home! My Lewis hates my going back alone in the dark; we've very nearly quarrelled over it already."
"The fact is," said Trevellyan, wondering if Mrs. Willoughby were the sort of person to have hysterics, "that there's been a telephone warning to say an air-raid is on, just over Staningham. They're heading this way, so we may hear a gun or two, you know; some of our machines are in pursuit."
He gazed anxiously at Lesbia, whom he characteristically supposed to be about either to burst into tears or to threaten a fainting fit.
The ideas of Captain Trevellyan were perhaps not much more advanced than those of Lady Vivian's secretary.
But Mrs. Willoughby discounted his solicitude, at least on one score, in a moment.