"I am glad you are come Joyce; it is time some one interfered. I have just been acting the spy on the Observatory Hill, and there are Charlotte and her elderly beau disporting themselves."
"Oh! Piers, it is really dreadful. I must tell Gilbert at once, and Mrs. Arundel. It will worry Gilbert dreadfully, and he is still so weak."
"You need not look so doleful, Joyce; after all, if people will make their own bed of thorns, they must bear the prick when they lie down on it. It all comes of Aunt Letitia's silly bringing up. Charlotte has been made a foolish, sentimental woman, and this is the end of it."
"It must not be the end; I must do all I can to prevent it. Call Susan to bring Joy, and we will go home at once. I must consult Mrs. Arundel, and ask her what it is best to do."
"You won't have time, for here they come," Piers said.
Yes; there was Charlotte, with her head on one side, and evidently simpering at some compliment, which her companion was administering.
When they came into the sitting-room, and stood face to face with Joyce, one betrayed some annoyance, and the other some triumph.
"I thought you would have gone home yesterday, Charlotte," Joyce said, after the first greeting. "Is not Aunt Letitia anxious to see you? This house is very full," she added, "and Gilbert is not well enough for me to ask you to return to Great George Street."
"I am going to Wells to-morrow, dear," Charlotte said, "and—and—"
"I am to have the honour of escorting Miss Benson to Wells," Lord Maythorne said, in his honeyed accents.