“Yes; her industry was appalling.” And then, as a thought occurred: “Was the jumper for you?”
“You sent a—er—um—person I engaged away from my house?” sternly. “Really, Diana! This is a little too much! Let’s have this out, my dear.”
Diana changed the record.
“Tea will be served in ten minutes,” she said. “And Gordon, my dear, your shoes are muddy. Run up and change them.”
Revolt flew red signals on his cheeks.
“I will do nothing of the kind!” he said sharply. “I will not be ordered about in my own house. Diana, you have gone too far! This intolerable situation must end here and now.”
He brought his hand slapping down on the back of the easy chair. He was determined.
“Either you or I leave this house to-night,” he said. “I have had enough! Already the servants are talking. I saw a particularly sinister smile on Trenter’s face when you came down to breakfast in your negligee this morning. I have a position, a reputation, a name in the City of London—I must guard my interests against the thoughtless, selfish folly of reckless adolescence!”
“What a name to call a lady!” she said reproachfully.
“I will not temporise; I will not allow a very serious situation to be turned into a jest. Either you leave Cheynel Gardens or I.”