"Miss Francis," he announced.
There was a moment's pause and then, looking slightly embarrassed but most refreshingly beautiful, Isabel appeared in the doorway.
Tony who had jumped to his feet came forward and took her hand.
"Good-morning, Isabel," he said. "How wonderfully punctual you are! You must have been very well brought up."
She shook her head, smiling shyly. "I am afraid it is only because I am hungry," she said. "As a rule I am late for everything."
"We ought to get along together famously," replied Tony. "Let's see, you don't know Guy yet, do you? Guy, let me introduce you to Isabel. I have already acquainted her with some of your better and brighter qualities."
Guy, whose face was an interesting study in blended emotions, made a little stiff bow.
"I have been trying to persuade him to stay and have breakfast with us," proceeded Tony mischievously, "but he says he doesn't care about my curious sporting friends."
With a spasmodic gesture Guy took a step forward. "Really I—I protest," he stammered. "You mustn't listen to him, Miss Francis. It is a gross misrepresentation."
"I am quite sure you wouldn't say anything disagreeable, Mr.—Mr. Guy," replied Isabel consolingly. "You have much too kind a face."