"Dear Connie, you are priceless," commented Sylvia patronisingly. "I wonder where you got your quaint sense of humour."
"Lady Adela was my informant," said Connie, quite unruffled. She had drawn the enemy's fire upon herself, which was precisely what she had intended to do. "Jolly sensible of you, too! A plumber is a useful little thing to have about a house. My Bill is practically one, you know, although he calls himself something grander. Now, what about a four-handed game of billiards before dinner? Do you feel inclined to play, Miss Welwyn?"
"I am rather out of practice," said Tilly dubiously.
"Never mind!" said Connie. "You can play with Dicky against Mr. Mainwaring and me."
She walked to the foot of the staircase, and called up: "Mr. Richard, forward!"
"In one moment, Miss!" replied a voice far up the height. "I'm just attending to a lady at the ribbon counter. I'll step down directly." Then a stentorian bawl: "Sign, please!"
During this characteristic exchange of inanities an electric bell purred faintly in the distance, with the usual result that the dining-room door opened, to emit the jinnee-like presence of Mr. Milroy.
"What is it, Milroy?" enquired Lady Adela.
"Front door bell, my lady," replied Milroy, and disappeared like a corpulent wraith through the curtains.
"Heavens, not another caller!" exclaimed the overwrought mistress of the household.