"Better?" asked a lady; and Dickie was astonished to find that he was on her lap.
"Yes, thank you," he said, and tried to sit up, but lay back again because that was so much more pleasant. He had had no idea that any one's lap could be so comfortable.
"Now, young man," said a stern voice that was not a lady's, "just you tell us how you came here, and who put you up to it."
"I got in," said Dickie feebly, "through the butler's pantry window," and as he said it he wondered how he had known that it was the butler's pantry. It is certain that no one had told him.
"What for?" asked the voice, which Dickie now perceived came from a gentleman in rumpled hair and a very loose pink flannel suit, with cordy things on it such as soldiers have.
"To let——" Dickie stopped. This was the moment he had been so carefully prepared for. He must think what he was saying.
"Yes," said the lady gently, "it's all right—poor little chap, don't be frightened—nobody wants to hurt you!"
"I'm not frightened," said Dickie—"not now."
"To let——?" reminded the lady, persuasively.
"To let the man in."