"Surely dinner can't be served already!" she exclaimed. "Come
in."
Very much to their surprise, it was Sir Timothy himself who
entered. He was in evening dress and wearing several orders, one
of which Francis noted with surprise.
"My apologies," he said. "Hedges told me that there were
cocktails here, and as I am on my way to a rather weary dinner, I
thought I might inflict myself upon you for a moment."
Margaret rose at once to her feet.
"I am a shocking hostess," she declared. "Hedges brought the
things in twenty minutes ago."
She took up the silver receptacle, shook it vigorously and filled
three glasses. Sir Timothy accepted his and bowed to them both.
"My best wishes," he said. "Really, when one comes to think of
it, however much it may be against my inclinations I scarcely see
how I shall be able to withhold my consent. I believe that you
both have at heart the flair for domesticity. This little
picture, and the thought of your tete-a-tete dinner, almost
touches me."
"Don't make fun of us, father," Margaret begged. "Tell us where
you are going in all that splendour?"
Sir Timothy shrugged his shoulders.
"A month or so ago," he explained, "I was chosen to induct a
scion of Royalty into the understanding of fighting as it is
indulged in at the National Sporting Club.
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