Lady Diana laughed, as she led Clodagh to the table.
"George is a horrible egoist," she said cheerfully. "He thinks the only things in the world worthy of consideration are Tuffnell—and the Tuffnells."
Clodagh smiled as she took her seat.
"He is very much justified," she said softly. Then she glanced round the table. "But where's Lady Frances?"
Her hostess smiled.
"Breakfasting in bed. I knocked at her door at seven to ask whether she would care for a canter before breakfast, or whether she would like to walk over to the home farm with George, but she literally drove me away. She's out of sorts to-day. Poor Frances!"
"Oh, I am sorry!" Clodagh looked distressed. "Just to-day, when everybody's coming!"
George Tuffnell turned to her with his habitual bluff kindliness.
"Don't trouble, Mrs. Milbanke!" he said. "She'll be all right by the afternoon. It's the mornings that Society plays the deuce with. Look at Di! Look what a country life has done for her!"
Clodagh looked almost shyly at her hostess's straight shoulders and healthy, happy face.