The Ceremony was thus concluded; instantly they were all standing about, laughing, talking, soon they would be all in the hall and then they would separate, George and Timothy and Bob to talk, perhaps, until early hours in the morning.... Here is old Rocket to wheel grandfather’s chair along to his bedroom.
“Well, Father, here’s Rocket come for you.”
“All right, my dear, I’m ready....”
But Rocket had not come for his master. Rocket, perplexity, dismay, upon his countenance, was plainly at a loss, and for Rocket to be at a loss!
“Hullo, Rocket, what is it?”
“There’s a gentleman, sir—apologises profoundly for the lateness of the hour—wouldn’t disturb you but the fog—his card....”
VI
Until he passes away to join the glorious company of Trenchards who await him, will young Henry Trenchard remember everything that then occurred—exactly he will remember it and to its tiniest detail. It was past ten o’clock and never in the memory of anyone present had the Ceremony before been invaded.... Astonishing impertinence on the part of someone! Astonishing bravery also did he only realise it!
“It’s the fog, you know,” said Henry’s mother.
“What’s the matter!” screamed Aunt Sarah.