He disappeared, and Uncle Chris turned slowly to descend the stairs. As he reached the floor below, the door of the stage-box opened, and Mrs Peagrim came out.
“Oh, Major Selby!” cried the radiant and vivacious hostess. “I couldn’t think where you had got to. I have been looking for you everywhere.”
Uncle Chris quivered slightly, but braced himself to do his duty.
“May I have the pleasure … ?” he began, then broke off as he saw the man who had come out of the box behind his hostess. “Underhill!” He grasped his hand and shook it warmly. “My dear fellow! I had no notion that you had arrived!”
“Sir Derek came just a moment ago,” said Mrs Peagrim.
“How are you, Major Selby?” said Derek. He was a little surprised at the warmth of his reception. He had not anticipated this geniality.
“My dear fellow, I’m delighted to see you,” cried Uncle Chris. “But, as I was saying, Mrs Peagrim, may I have the pleasure of this dance?”
“I don’t think I will dance this one,” said Mrs Peagrim surprisingly. “I’m sure you two must have ever so much to talk about. Why don’t you take Sir Derek and give him a cup of coffee?”
“Capital idea!” said Uncle Chris. “Come this way, my dear fellow. As Mrs Peagrim says, I have ever so much to talk about. Along this passage, my boy. Be careful. There’s a step. Weil, well, well! It’s delightful to see you again!” He massaged Derek’s arm affectionately. Every time he had met Mrs Peagrim that evening he had quailed inwardly at what lay before him, should some hitch occur to prevent the re-union of Derek and Jill: and, now that the other was actually here, handsomer than ever and more than ever the sort of man no girl could resist, he declined to admit the possibility of a hitch. His spirits soared. “You haven’t seen Jill yet, of course?”
“No.” Derek hesitated. “Is Jill … Does she … I mean …”