"At this time of day? It wouldn't be civil."
Loring took me into a corner and suggested one or two names. Our difficulty was that Tom usually trampled his partners under foot if they risked dancing with him and petrified them with his silence if they begged for mercy and sat out.
"Amy's good for half-hour spells of cricket shop if he can get——I say, Tom, why don't you ask Sonia up?"
"Mater wouldn't let her come," he boomed in reply. "She's only sixteen. Not out yet."
"'Out' be damned!" I said. "She can glue her hair up for two nights. I'll see she gets partners. You can try it anyway; we'll send a round-robin wire to Lady Dainton."
And the wire was sent, signed by the five of us. An answering wire of acceptance was delivered at luncheon, and in the late afternoon a touring-car drew up outside the digs., and a slim figure in dust-coat and motor-veil ran lightly up the stairs with a steadying hand to an elaborate but still unstable coiffure.
"Lord Loring, it's perfectly ripping of you!" Sonia exclaimed, as he and I met her at the stair-head.
"You needn't call me Lord Loring even if your hair is up," he answered, as they shook hands. "It was 'Loring' when last we met."
"Oh, we were all children then! How do you do, Mr. Oakleigh?"
"Call me that again and I let your hair down!" I said. "Let me introduce you to Lady Loring and the rest of the party. Then you'll have to go and dress."