‘What ho, Ophelia!’ he cried, as he came into the room; ‘On the go again? Don’t you believe all they tell you.’
‘On the contrary,’ I interrupted, as Ophelia began a protest. ‘Miss Bugg was instructing us.’
‘Your remark is somewhat exiguous, Mr. Cocklin,’ began the Bugg, when the inner door opened gently and Lady Blitherington sailed in.
‘Good evening, Frederick,’ she said, and bowed to us, ‘I am glad you’re more punctual than usual; poor dear Hophni used to say that if your Uncle William had only been more punctual he might have risen to be a credit to the family.’
‘Rather an unlikely contingency,’ remarked Freddy after we had put the ladies into the lift, ‘considering that the old scoundrel drove his wife into an asylum and then eloped to New York with a milliner’s assistant.’
‘I suppose you’ve instructed Ophelia in all the Oxford customs,’ remarked the dowager as she sat down.
‘She doesn’t need any instructions,’ replied Squiff with a bow towards the Bugg, ‘she’s read all the best authorities, Lady Blitherington.’
‘By the way, Aunt,’ said Freddy suddenly, ‘I’ve just had a wire from Maisie, she and Muriel are coming here on Thursday for a week, isn’t it jolly?’
‘Goodness gracious me, Frederick,’ exclaimed the old lady, ‘but never mind, I suppose if they think nothing of putting off their visit to the dear Archdeacon, I mustn’t bother about it; still it is too bad of them.’