"I say, Miss Burgoyne," Lionel interposed, quickly, "there's a sister-in-law of his coming to town shortly, on her way to Brighton—a Miss Cunyngham—and I should like to have her mother and herself come behind for a little while, some night they were at the theatre—it is interesting to those people, you know—"
"You are the one who would have no strangers in the wings!" said the voice.
"And I want you to be civil to them—"
"Tea and cake? All right. But you haven't told me how you are going down to Richmond."
"Yes, I have. I'm going down by train, most likely."
"Oh, by train. I suppose I ought to accept Lord Denysfort's invitation."
"What's the good of driving at this time of year?" he asked. "It will be pitch dark."
"There will be a full moon, they say."
"You won't see it because of the fog. In fact, the whole thing is a mistake. The dinner should have been given in London."
"Oh, I think it will be great fun dining at a half-deserted hotel—it will be ghostly—and I'm going out on the terrace, if it is as black as midnight."