Another voice floated in through the window.
“I go with Alfie, Sir Geoffrey.”
The Squire, fulminating, strode to the window, Youth and Beauty had vanished. He came back, as Lady Pomfret observed disconsolately:
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear! We shall soon be left without servants.”
Everybody was upset. For once Margot forgot her tact. She said with acerbity:
“But really this is—feudal. It reeks of the Middle Ages.” Then, regaining her sprightliness, she smiled: “Sir Geoffrey, do come back to the twentieth century.”
Lady Pomfret smiled faintly.
“Please do, dear Geoffrey.”
“Never! What unspeakable insolence!”
“Poor things!” sighed Lady Pomfret. “They forgot us because we had driven them to think only of themselves.”