"It is really provoking," Lady Tilchester said to me. "What on earth did they ask Luffy here for? He is noted for this sort of thing, and, of course, posing as a war hero adds an extra lustre to his charms."
The only two people supremely unconscious of delinquencies were the causes of all the trouble—Lord Luffton and Miss Trumpet.
They had gone off to look at the pictures in the long gallery, and at twenty minutes to twelve were nowhere to be seen.
Lady Glenellen's eyes flashed ominously.
"Let us go to bed," she said. "Betty, why don't you have the lights turned out?"
Fortunately the aunt did not hear this remark. As her face showed, she was quite capable of a sharp reply to anything, and though, no doubt, annoyed with the niece, would certainly defend her.
"We had better go and look for them," said the Duke.
"Perhaps they have fallen down the oubliette," suggested Babykins.
"You don't tell me there is danger?" demanded Miss Martina B. Cadwallader, anxiously, "On this trip I am answerable to her poppa for Corrisande's safety."
We started, more or less in a body, towards the gallery, Lady Tilchester, with her usual tact, stopping to point out any notable picture or tapestry to the aunt on the way, so that the search should not look too pointed.