Mr. Welwyn deftly changed places with his wife, who gratefully engaged in a conversation with Mr. Mainwaring; and the rest of the company performed one of those complicated evolutions which children call a "general post," and which affords persons of mature years but intellectual poverty the inestimable boon of being able to employ the same topics of conversation several times over. Tableau Number Three was now set.
For a moment Dicky and Tilly found themselves together.
"Tea, old man?" asked Tilly, offering a cup.
"Thanks, little thing," replied Dicky, touching her hand under the saucer.
"Did you send these?" Tilly looked down at her pink carnations.
Dicky nodded, and his gaze became suddenly ecstatic.
"Tilly," he said in tones of exultant pride, "you are looking perfectly beautiful."
"This is a strictly business meeting," smiled Tilly; but her heart bumped foolishly. For a moment nothing seemed to matter save the knowledge that Dicky loved her and she loved Dicky.
The next event of any importance was the discovery that Mrs. Carmyle, engrossed with the twins, had had no tea. There were cries of contrition from the Welwyn family, and Connie was hurried to the tea-table, followed by the desolating howls of her youthful admirers--howls which increased to yells when Mrs. Welwyn announced that it was time for them to return whence they came. However, they were pacified by an offer from their new friend to accompany them part of the way; and after submitting with a sweetness as adorable as it was unexpected to an embrace from Lady Adela, they left the room clinging to Connie's skirts, having contributed to the programme the one unassailably successful item of the whole afternoon.
Amelia went with them, but returned almost immediately.