"Six-thirty. Do you dine with us, Miss Kennedy? I hope so. I feel——”
Just then Eddie came in, also in a dinner-jacket and incredibly neat—the very model of a correct young man. He bowed ceremoniously, if somewhat severely, to Angelica.
"Good evening, doctor!" he said to the white-haired man.
He touched an electric bell with his foot. The parlour maid came hastening in.
"I said half-past six!" said Mr. Eddie.
"Yes, sir, I know; but cook——”
"No excuses! You can certainly get some sort of dinner ready for me when I ask for it. Now hurry up! Never mind about what’s ready and what isn’t; just bring me something at once."
He pulled out a chair for Angelica, and they all sat down in silence.
"Good Lord!" said Eddie suddenly. "What a life! I’m tired as a dog, and I’ve got to work all evening."
"Too bad!" said the doctor. "Anything I could do, my boy?"