"St. Moritz? Oh!—no. We changed our minds and came on to Paris."
"Then you didn't get on the wrong train?" Admaston said with grim politeness.
The wretched Ellerdine, who had retreated to the breakfast-table and sank down upon a chair, heard this, and was about to lay his head in the bacon dish with alarm, when Lady Attwill's next words did a little to reassure him.
"Oh yes," she said easily, going into the centre of the room; "we all got on the wrong train, but we changed our minds when we discovered our mistake."
"Good thing you did it before it was too late."
"Did what?" she asked in a flat voice.
"Why, changed your minds before you could change on to the right train."
"Wasn't it!" she replied. "And, by the way, I saw an old friend of yours on the train, George."
"And who was that?" Admaston asked.
"Sir Peter Stoke," she answered.