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in the country for a hundred children and a fortnight in private homes for twenty sickly mites. I want Gabriel to take six.”
    â€œSix sickly mites?” asked Henry.
    â€œWhat, dear?”
    â€œDo you want Uncle Gabriel to take six sickly mites at Deepacres?”
    â€œIt’s the least he can do. I’m afraid Gabriel is inclined to be too self-centred, Charles. He’s a very wealthy man and he should think of other people more than he does. Your mama always said so. And I hear the most disquieting news of Violet. It appears that she has taken up spiritualism and sits in the dark with a set of very second-rate sort of people.”
    â€œNot spiritualism, darling,” said Charlot. “Black magic.”
    â€œWhat, dear?”
    â€œMagic.”
    â€œOh. Oh, I see. That’s entirely different. I suppose she does it to entertain their house-parties. But that doesn’t alter the fact that both Violet and Gabriel are getting rather self-centred. It would be an excellent thing for both of them if they adopted two children.”
    â€œFor mercy’s sake, Aunt Kit,” cried Charlot, “don’t suggest that to Gabriel.”
    â€œDon’t suggest anything,” said Lord Charles. “I implore you, Aunt Kit, not to tackle Gabriel this afternoon. You see—” he peered anxiously at his watch and broke off. “Good God, Immy,” he whispered to his wife, “we must do something. She’ll infuriate him. Take her to your room.”
    â€œUnder what pretext?” muttered Charlot.
    â€œThink of something.”
    â€œAunt Kit, would you like to see my bedroom?”
    â€œWhat, dear?”
    â€œIt’s no good, Mummy,” said Frid. “Better tell her we’re bust.”
    â€œI think so,” said Lord Charles. He bent his legs and brought his face close to his aunt’s.
    â€œAunt Kit,” he shouted, “I’m in difficulties.”
    â€œAre you, dear?”
    â€œI’ve no money.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThere’s a bum in the house,” yelled Patch.
    â€œBe quiet, Patch,” said Henry. His father continued. “I’ve asked Gabriel to lend me two thousand. If he doesn’t I shall go bankrupt.”
    â€œCharlie!”
    â€œIt’s true.”
    â€œI’ll speak to Gabriel,” said Lady Katherine quite loudly.
    â€œNo, no!” cried the Lampreys.
    â€œLord and Lady Wutherwood, m’lady,” said Baskett in the doorway.

    Roberta knew that the Lampreys had not reckoned on Lady Wutherwood’s arrival with her husband, and she had time to admire their almost instant recovery from this second and formidable shock. Charlot met her brother and sister-in-law half-way across the room. Her manner held a miraculous balance between the over-cordial and the too-casual. Her children and her husband supported her wonderfully. Lady Katherine for the moment was too rattled by the Lampreys’ news of impending disaster to make any disturbance. She sat quietly in her chair.
    Roberta found herself shaking hands with an extremely odd couple. The Marquis of Wutherwood and Rune was sixty years of age but these years sat heavily upon him and he looked like an old man. His narrow head, sunken between high shoulders, poked forward with an air that was at once mean and aggressive. His face was colourless. The bridge of his nose was so narrow that his eyes appeared to be impossibly close-set. His mouth drooped querulously and the length of his chin, though prodigious, was singularly unexpressive of anything but obstinacy. His upper teeth projected over his under lip and hinted at a high and a narrow palate. These teeth gave him an unpleasingly feminine appearance increased by his chilly old-maidish manner, which suggested that he lived in a state of perpetual offence. Roberta found herself wondering if he could possibly be as disagreeable as he looked.
    His wife was about fifty years of age.