"All right," said Dicky obediently.
As he left the hall he said something in a low voice to Mrs. Carmyle. That small champion of the oppressed nodded comprehendingly, and established herself at a writing-table under the curtained window.
"Abel," enquired Lady Adela, in pursuance of her policy of once more clearing the decks for action, "what have you done with Mr. Rylands?"
"I quite forgot him," confessed Mr. Mainwaring. "I was so much occupied with Miss Welwyn. I fear he is still in the smoking-room."
"Go and let him out--by the side door," commanded Lady Adela.
"Come on, Dad!" said Dicky.
Father and son disappeared, arm-in-arm; Lady Adela and Sylvia closed in upon the flinching Miss Welwyn; and Mrs. Carmyle, taking up her pen, addressed herself to the composition of an epistle to her lord and master.
Lady Adela looked round, and remarked in solicitous tones:--
"Constance, dear, you have chosen a very draughty corner for yourself."
"I have put fresh note-paper in your bedroom, Connie," added Sylvia cordially.