“Lord Dreever wanted to smoke,” said Molly.
She smiled, but there was anxiety in her eyes. She looked quickly at her father and at Jimmy.
“Molly, my dear,” said McEachern huskily, “I want to speak to you for a moment.”
Jimmy took his lordship by the arm.
“Come along, Dreever,” he said. “You can come and sit out with me. We’ll go and smoke on the terrace.”
They left the room together.
“What does the old boy want?” inquired his lordship. “Are you and Miss McEachern——?”
“We are,” said Jimmy.
“By Jove! I say, old chap! Million congratulations and all that sort of rot, you know!”
His lordship had to resume his duties in the ballroom after a while; but Jimmy sat on, smoking and thinking.