"I did," replied Percy with feeling. "He was going the opposite way to me."
"In that case," replied Dicky reflectively, "he must be halfway back to mother by this time. Well, perhaps it is just as well. Did you happen to observe whether he had the rain-gauge with him?"
"All I remarked," replied Mr. Welwyn bitterly, "was about half a mudguard. But that," he continued, with a winning smile to the ladies, "is neither here nor there, is it? Seeing as you are safe, Tilly, old girl, I think I may now resign the post of chaperon into her ladyship's hands. And perhaps," he added with a graceful bow, "I may be permitted to remark that in my humble opinion a more capable pair of hands could not be found for the job."
Lady Adela had suffered severely that day, and her spirit for the time being was almost broken. She merely smiled weakly.
Mr. Welwyn, now at the very top of his form, struck an attitude.
"My trusty iron steed," he declaimed, "waits without the battlements--all but a few spokes, that is, accounted for by the aforesaid rhinoceros--and I must hence, to ketch the seven-fifteen back to Londinium."
"Does that mean he is going?" murmured Lady Adela to her daughter, with a flutter of hope upon her drawn features.
Sylvia was nodding reassuringly, when the tactless Dicky broke in:--
"Percy, old son, you really must stay for dinner, if not for the night."
"We can't send you away empty in weather like this, Mr. Welwyn," added Mr. Mainwaring hospitably. "My dear--"