"Don't talk nonsense, William. Go and tell them to go away at once. Have you finished your tea?"
William glared bitterly at the people who seemed bent on bringing about his doom.
"Oh, yes," he said. "I've had all the tea I feel like having in here. I don't know what'll happen to me later on," he went on pathetically, "with not having been able to have my tea the way I felt like——"
"Go and send those boys away at once, William, and never bring them here again."
William, whose opinion of life in general was, at this moment, unprintable, went slowly into the garden.
"You've gotter go away," he said in a hoarse whisper. "She says so."
"Orl right. We'll go an' tell your father——"
"No," said William, "you wait by the gate an' I'll bring you something soon an'—my goodness!—it'll be a long time before I go in for any more secret sercieties."
They went furtively down the garden drive, and William returned to the house.
The guests were arriving. He caught sight of the Rev. Cuthbert Pugh and Mr. Beal as they were ushered into the drawing-room. He hovered disconsolately round the kitchen. Cook was securely in possession. She watched his every movement suspiciously. The position was desperate. Something must be done.