Tilly turned quickly.
"Well, Russell?" she asked.
Mr. Stillbottle, ignoring her entirely, addressed himself to the master of the house.
"A message has came through on the telephone, sir," he chanted, fixing his eyes upon an imaginary prompt-book on the opposite wall, "askin' for you to be so kind as to attend a meetin' of the Club C'mittee at three o'clock on Toosday next."
"I think I am engaged," replied Mr. Welwyn, with an anxious glance in the direction of his mother-in-law (who was fortunately busily occupied in masticating a cylinder); "but say I will let them know."
"Right," said Mr. Stillbottle, and departed.
The Welwyns, who during the time occupied by their butler's second "turn," had been inclining uneasy ears in the direction of the open doorway, surveyed one another in a frightened fashion. All was not well on the second floor: evidence to that effect was plainly audible.
"Great bore, these committee meetings," commented Mr. Welwyn. "I expect you have your fill of them, Mainwaring."
"Alas, yes!" said Mr. Mainwaring. "They are all the same. Everybody sits and looks portentously solemn--"
"All sorts of non-controversial business is brought forward as a matter of pressing importance--"