Miss Welwyn and Mrs. Carmyle descended the stairs together, Sylvia stalking majestically in the rear. Tilly wore a short navy-blue skirt and a soft silk shirt belonging to Connie--garments which, owing to the mysterious readiness with which the female form accommodates itself to the wardrobe of its neighbour, fitted her to perfection. In this case, however, the miracle was less noticeable than usual, for the two girls were of much the same height and build, their chief points of difference being their hair and eyes.
In reply to her swain's tender enquiries, Miss Welwyn intimated that she was now warm and dry.
"In that case," replied Dicky, "come and sit up to the tea-table and take some nourishment."
On her way to her tea Tilly was met by Mr. Mainwaring senior, with outstretched hands.
"My dear young lady," he said, with shy cordiality, "we owe you a most humble apology."
Tilly, flushing prettily, asked why.
"For our extremely vague greeting to you just now," explained her host. "You see"--he clapped Dicky fondly on the shoulder--"this intellectual son of ours forgot to post the letter announcing your--telling us about you. We have only just heard the news. Now that we have you, my dear"--the old gentleman's eyes beamed affectionately--"we are going to make much of you!"
"Oh, thank you! You are kind!" cried Tilly impulsively; and smiled gratefully upon her future father-in-law. His were the first official words of welcome that she had received.
"Good old Dad!" said Dicky.
Meanwhile Lady Adela had come to the conclusion that her male belongings were overdoing it.