Sylvia came in, riding-whip in hand. Her face was flushed and her
eyes shining.

"Had a ripping run, Dad. You ought to have been there," she said.
"Good morning!" She paused and kissed him, then turned to her
step-mother. "Good morning, Madam! I hope the keys have been duly
handed over. I told Mrs. Hadlow to see to it."

Mrs. Ingleton kissed her effusively. "You poor child! I am afraid
it is a very sore point with you to part with your authority to me.
The only thing for you to do is to be quick and get a home of your
own."

Sylvia laughed. "Breakfast is my most pressing need at the present
moment. Winnie carried me beautifully, Dad. George says she is a
positive marvel for her years; dear little soul."

"George--George!" repeated Mrs. Ingleton with playful surprise. "I
presume that is the estimable young man who called upon me last
night. Well, well, if you are so intimate, I suppose I shall have
to be too. He was in a great hurry to pay his respects, was he
not?"

Sylvia was staring at her from the other side of the table. "I
meant George the groom," she said coldly after a moment. "Is there
any news, Dad?"

She turned deliberately to him, but before he could speak in answer
Mrs. Ingleton intervened.