"Millie's an angel," I replied.
Just then the angel joined us. She had been exploring the house, and noting the damage done. Her eyes were open to their fullest extent as she shook hands with me.
"Oh, Mr. Garnet," she said, "couldn't you have stopped them?"
I felt a cur. Had I done as much as I might have done to stem the tide?
"I'm awfully sorry, Mrs. Ukridge," I said. "I really don't think I could have done more. We tried every method. Beale had seven fights, and I made a speech on the lawn, but it was all no good."
"Perhaps we can collect these men and explain things," I added. "I don't believe any of them know you've come back."
"Send Beale round," said Ukridge. "Beale!"
The hired retainer came running out at the sound of the well-known voice.
"Lumme, Mr. Ukridge, sir!" he gasped.
It was the first time Beale had ever betrayed any real emotion in my presence. To him, I suppose, the return of Ukridge was as sensational and astounding an event as the reappearance of one from the tomb would have been. He was not accustomed to find those who had shot the moon revisiting their old haunts.