Another shout of merriment from the boy at his side made him look round.
"Well? What's the joke?"
"You!" yelled the youngster, between his paroxysms. "I'm awfully sorry. You're such a good sort. But I can't help it. I say, Trevor—aren't you glad just—that you're one of the family?"
Mordaunt aimed a blow at him that he evaded with ease. "If you don't behave yourself I shall use the privilege in a fashion you won't care for," he said, "even if it is a waste of time."
At which threat Noel confidingly hooked his arm once more through that of his brother-in-law and begged him in a voice hoarse with laughter to stop rotting.
CHAPTER III
DISASTER
Chris and Noel set off in the motor that afternoon in excellent spirits to pay the projected call upon Mrs. Pouncefort.
They found the lady of the house at home, and spent an animated hour with her; for although she never appeared to welcome her visitors or to exert herself in any degree to entertain them, most of them seemed to find it difficult to get away.
When they departed at length they carried with them an invitation to a garden fête which had been arranged for the following week. It included the whole party, to Chris's great satisfaction.
"It will be the very thing for Bertie," she said. "It is just what he needs."