Lord Ellerdine shook his head impatiently. "No, no," he said irritably; "to leave us in the lurch like that."
"But I telegraphed to you to Chalons that we had got on the wrong train."
"Yes, you wired to Chalons right enough, but that didn't make it true. I would not have gone if Alice had not persuaded me that the train was running in two parts, and that you would be sure to join us at Chalons."
"Well, it's all right now," Collingwood replied, still preserving the perfect sang-froid with which he had listened to all the other's remarks. "It's all right now, so don't let's say any more about it."
"All right now, by Jove!" Ellerdine replied. "Is it? Suppose Admaston hears about it—what?"
"Of course," Collingwood said, "if you think it is absolutely necessary, we'll invent some yarn that will satisfy him."
"I do think it necessary. But you'll have to do it. I never could invent—never. No good at it. Confound you, Colling, leaving us...."
Collingwood's manner changed from coolness to something more intimate. "Now, look here, Dicky," he said persuasively. "I didn't think you'd cut up rough about it. I thought Alice possibly might, but not you."
"Oh, she doesn't mind," Ellerdine answered. "She never believes that people get on the wrong train, or have motor accidents so that they can have a night off."
Collingwood put his feet down to the floor and threw the end of his cigarette into the fireplace. "Now, look here," he said; "do you mean that you think that I——" He hesitated for a moment.