"There are lights in the windows," Vincent said. "Thank goodness they are there."
Vincent limped slowly along until he reached the house.
"You stay out here, Tony. I will send Dinah out to you directly. It will be better for her to meet you here alone."
Vincent walked straight into the drawing-room, where his mother and
Annie were sitting.
"Why, Vincent!" Mrs. Wingfield exclaimed, starting up, "what has happened to you? What are you dressed up like that for? Is anything the matter?"
"Nothing is the matter, mother, except that I am as tired as a dog. Yes, my dress is not quite fit for a drawing-room," he laughed, looking down at the rough trousers splashed with mud to the waist, and his flannel shirt, for they had not waited to pick up their coats as they left the boat; "but nothing is the matter, I can assure you. I will tell you about it directly, but first please send for Dinah here."
Mrs. Wingfield rang the bell on the table beside her.
"Tell Dinah I want to speak to her at once," she said to the girl that answered it. Dinah appeared in a minute.
"Dinah," Vincent said, "has your boy gone to bed?"
"Yes, sah; been gone an hour ago."