"'The Crouch End Gladiators,' I think they 're called," said Dicky. "But I have n't met any of them yet."
"Where is Crouch End?" enquired Lady Adela. "And why should one have a club there?"
"It is a cycling club," explained Dicky. "You go out for spins in the country on Saturday afternoons. Topping! I'll bring them down here one day if you like! Each member is allowed to have one lady guest," he added, with a happy smile. "But to resume. We lost friend Percy at Waterloo. He went to get a bicycle ticket, or something, and was no more seen. The train started without him. Tilly was fearfully upset about it: said she thought it was n't quite proper for her to come down without a chaperon on her first visit."
"She proposes to come again, then?" said Lady Adela, with a short quavering laugh.
Dicky stopped short, and regarded his mother with unfeigned astonishment.
"Come again? I should think she was coming again! Anyhow, the poor little thing was quite distressed when we lost Perce."
"That, dear," remarked Lady Adela icily, "is what I should call straining at a gnat and swallowing a camel. And now, my boy, let me beg you to tell me--"
Dicky, who was too fully occupied with the recollections of his recent journey to be aware of the physical and mental strain to which he was subjecting his revered parents, suddenly started off down a fresh alley of irrelevant reminiscence.
"Talking of camels," he said, "there is the goat."
"Bless my soul, my dear lad!" exclaimed Mr. Mainwaring. "What goat?"