"Mr. Westover will certainly break the window," she said, somewhat inconsequently.
He was waving and war-whooping like an Indian. Amelia came to the door.
"Shall I let him out now, mum?" she asked.
"At once."
When he appeared I said—
"Dimbie, you should try to be more controlled."
"Well, of all the cheek——"
"It wasn't cheek, but common sense," I interposed gently. "I told Amelia to do it."
"But why? You may be the mistress of One Tree Cottage, but I——"
"Come here, and I will whisper to you." I pulled his sunburnt face down to mine.