"Missing two, Babs?" he called out.
Lady Barbara pressed her hand against her eyes, then drew it away and shook her head.
"I'm not dancing to-night," she answered.
Lady Pentyre turned to her with mingled anxiety and impatience.
"Aren't you feeling any better?" she asked.
"I can't say that I am. When I stand, the floor goes up and down; and, when I sit down, the room goes gently round me."
Jack was leaning aimlessly against the door, and Lady Pentyre beckoned to him. She had no intention of leaving her son to make a fool of himself with Sally Farwell; and, if she told him or young Summertown to take Lady Barbara home, she would next hear that all three had fallen down a shaft in Durham.
"Mr. Waring, you're not dancing! Do you think you could find one of the cars and take this child back to bed? I hardly like to send her alone, you know, and every one here has a party of her own to look after."
Jack bowed with adequate graciousness, but Lady Barbara intervened with a vigorous refusal.
"I couldn't think of dragging him away," she exclaimed. "This is the only ball he ever comes to; and he's been looking after me so much that he hasn't had time to see any of his friends."