“Hello, Gordon!” echoed the other two.
“Where’ve you been?” demanded the elder brother.
“Been to see a sick friend,” said Noel.
Gordon looked at his sister.
“Are you coming to Lady Ottway’s dance to-night? You were asked.”
“I know. But I’m not coming. I can’t stand her dances. I may be slow, but they’re slower still.”
“Don’t say you can’t stand her,” advised Gordon, bending his handsome head to light a cigarette.
“Why not? If I feel like it?”
He threw away the match and puffed experimentally on the cigarette. Then, satisfied of a light, he said casually:
“Because she’s going to be my mother-in-law. That’s why.”