"Thank you. I have not been ill."
"Oh, I always forget."
"Your servant, ma'am." Geoffrey bowed.
"Oh,"—Lady Waverton turned on her elbow. "Colonel Boyce—Mrs. Weston,
Alison's companion. Faith, duenna, I think."
"Your most obedient, ma'am." Colonel Boyce bowed low.
Mrs. Weston stared at him, seemed to try to speak, said nothing, and hurried across the room.
"Alison, dear, are you ready?" her voice sounded hoarse.
"Am I ever ready?" Alison laughed. "Weston, dear, we are finding friends here;" she pointed to Harry.
Colonel Boyce had followed. He laid his hand on Harry's shoulder: "My son, ma'am," said he.
Mrs. Weston's eyes grew wide, and her face was white and drawn, and she swayed. As Harry bowed to her, a lacquered box was swept off the table with a great clatter, and Colonel Boyce cried, "Odds life, Harry, you are a clumsy fellow. Here, man, here," and made a great commotion over picking it up.