Part 37 (1/2)

”What is that?” he enquired in a sharp voice. ”Cambridge?”

”Yes. He does n't remember you at all distinctly,” said Tilly, ”but says he has an impression that you were the most brilliant man of your year.”

”If that,” remarked Mr. Welwyn, in a distinctly relieved tone, ”is all that he recollects about me, I shall be pleased to meet him again.”

”How is d.i.c.ky, Tilly?” enquired Amelia.

Tilly's merry face softened.

”d.i.c.ky,” she said, half to herself, ”is just d.i.c.ky. He brought me as far as the door, but I would n't let him come in.”

”And are they all coming to tea?” enquired Mrs. Welwyn anxiously.

”Yes--the whole boiling of them, at five this afternoon--a state call!”

replied Tilly. ”By the way, Mother, that was a bloomer we made about the invitation. I knew at the time we talked about it that you ought to have written a note and chanced the spelling. Her ladys.h.i.+p made that _quite_ plain to me.”

”Oh dear!” said Mrs. Welwyn in distress. ”What did she say?”

”She did n't say anything in particular,” admitted Tilly, crinkling her brow. ”Nothing one could take hold of, you know. Just--just--”

”Sort of snacks,” suggested her mother sympathetically.

Tilly nodded her head.

”That's it,” she said. ”Anyhow, she has sent you a written reply. Here it is.”

Mrs. Welwyn and Amelia breathed hard and respectfully at the sight of the large thin grey envelope, addressed by Lady Adela's own compelling hand.

”You read it, dearie,” said Mrs. Welwyn.

”No; I'll tell you what,” exclaimed Tilly. ”We'll let little 'Melia read it. She does n't get much fun.”

”Oh, Tilly!” cried Amelia gratefully.

She took the letter, opened it with an air, and began:--

”_My deah Mrs. Welwyn--haw!_”

There was great merriment at this, for in her own family circle Miss Amelia enjoyed a great reputation as a wit and mimic. The fact that neither she nor any of her audience, save Tilly, had ever beheld Lady Adela in the flesh detracted not a whit from their enjoyment of her performance.

”_It is really too good of you,_” continued Amelia, in the high-pitched and even tones of a lady of exceptional breeding, ”_to invite us all--such a crowd of us--to come to tea on Monday. As it happens, we shall be in town that day, so Mr. Mainwaring and I propose to take you at your word, and shall be charmed to come with our son and daughter at five o'clock._”

”That'll be four cups,” murmured Mrs. Welwyn abstractedly. ”We can get Mehta Ram's. Go on, Ducky.”

”_After our recent experience of your daughter's society--_”

Here Amelia broke off, to observe that in her opinion the last phrase sounded tabbyish.

”Never mind! Go on!” urged Mrs. Welwyn.

”_--Daughter's society, we are naturally anxious to make the acquaintance of her forbears._”