Mathilde's heart sank a little at this. She knew her mother did not like
to be kept waiting for dinner.

"When I was a young man--" began Mr. Lanley.

"It was the custom," interrupted Adelaide in exactly the same tone, "for
a hostess to be in her drawing-room at least five minutes before the hour
set for the arrival of the guests."

"Adelaide," her father pleaded, "I don't talk like that; at least
not often."

"You would, though, if you didn't have me to correct you," she retorted.
"There's the bell at last; but it always takes people like that forever
to get their wraps off."

"It's only ten minutes past eight," said Farron, and Mathilde blessed
him with a look.

Mrs. Wayne came quickly into the room, so fast that her dress floated
behind her; she was in black and very grand. No one would have supposed
that she had murmured to Pete just before the drawing-room door was
opened, "I hope they haven't run in any old relations on us."

"I'm afraid I'm late," she began.

"She always is," Pete murmured to Mathilde as he took her hand and quite
openly squeezed it, and then, before Adelaide had time for the rather
casual introduction she had planned, he himself put the hand he was