"Charles," remarked Lady Baradell, "always sets an example. It's his profession."
Miss York laughed. "Do you set an example too, Mr. Northcote?" she inquired, turning to me.
"Only on the principle of the 'awful warning,'" I said; "but it's just as effective."
"Mr. Northcote," put in Lady Baradell softly, "is a law to himself. It is a very convenient arrangement if one has the strength of mind for it."
"Who's this coming?" interrupted Aunt Mary suddenly.
We all glanced up in the direction she was looking, and there, just clambering over the stile that led into the field, was a figure in grey flannels which I recognised at once as Billy.
I hastened to explain. "He's a man named Logan," I said, "who's staying at the Plough. We met him when we were out shooting, and Maurice asked me to invite him up to the cricket."
Aunt Mary, who was evidently the soul of hospitality, beamed good-naturedly. "Oh, how very nice!" she said. "Perhaps he'd play."
"I dare say he would, if you asked him," I replied mischievously, getting up from my chair.
Billy, who has never suffered from shyness, came straight across to where we were sitting, and took off his hat. In a few words I made the necessary introductions.