“I wasn’t,” said Violet; “I was down before you.”
“I have repeatedly said,” went on the elder, “that to make a hotel of another person’s house, rushing out at all hours and back to meals at all hours, is deuced bad form. I have——”
The roar of the gong cut him short, and Violet rushed upstairs to change her hat.
“Had a good run?” asked Uncle Molyneux at luncheon.
“Had a good what?” asked General Grampound.
“Run—beagles, you know.”
“I have,” said Dicky, who had just returned, answering the question and slipping into his seat both at the same time, “No—chops, please—what became of you?”
“I met the governess-cart,” replied Violet, “and came home in it.”
“Where’s Boxall?” asked Uncle Molyneux.
“Mr Boxall is not feeling very well, sir, and will not be down to luncheon,” said old James.