Tony raised her hand and kissed the tip of her fingers. "Why, yes," he said; "we'll probably run across each other before long."
* * * * * * *
It was just twenty minutes later when Lady Jocelyn's pretty parlourmaid opened the door of the drawing-room at Chester Square, and in a slightly agitated voice, for such a well trained retainer, announced the arrival of Sir Antony Conway.
Tony, who had followed hard upon her heels, came straight up to the sofa, where, as usual, his aunt was sitting. She looked older and very frail, and her thin hands trembled a little as she stretched them to greet him.
"Tony!" she exclaimed, "my dear boy!"
He sat down beside her, holding her hands in his.
"Aunt Fanny," he said severely; "you have been breaking my rules. You know that you're never allowed to look unhappy or worried."
"It wasn't altogether my fault it happened, Tony," she said. "I would have given my stupid useless old life twice over to have stopped it."
In a tender, half jesting fashion he slipped his arm round her. "You mustn't talk like that, Aunt Fanny dear," he said. "In fact you mustn't talk at all. You must just sit still and listen to me. There is no time for anything else."
Lady Jocelyn clasped her hands in her lap. "Go on," she said quietly.