It was not long before he heard the crunch of the gravel beneath the wheels of the motor, and he jumped out of bed to look out of the window and call to him. But they had been equally quick in letting him in, and Dennis had no more than a glimpse of him standing in the oblong of light from the open door, before it closed again behind him. But that was of no consequence: he would be here immediately, and Dennis leaped back into bed. The minutes passed, but very likely Colin would want something to eat after his drive from London, before he came upstairs. Soon there came along the passage a step that Dennis knew, and his eyes, sparkling with the imminent joy, were fixed on his door, to see it swing open. But the steps stopped short before they reached it, and another door a little way down the passage was opened and closed. “I suppose he thought it was very late, and that I should be asleep,” said Dennis to himself as he put out his light. He slept late next morning and hurried downstairs to breakfast. His father, dressed in flannels with his hair still wet from his bathe, was standing by the window, opening his letters. “Oh, there you are at last,” said Dennis, springing to him. Colin gave him a rather absent hand. “Hullo, Dennis,” he said. “Hullo, Father. I say, how late you were last night, and you never came to see me.” “No. I managed to curb my impatience till this morning,” said Colin. “O-oh! Sarcasm! And have you been bathing? Why didn’t you fetch me?” “I didn’t imagine you had forgotten your way down to the lake, if you wanted to bathe.” Dennis gave him one quick anxious glance. There was something wrong: perhaps the business in London yesterday had worried him, or perhaps his father was vexed with him, though it seemed very inexplicable, about that matter of the train yesterday. “I’m sorry about my coming in the morning yesterday,” he said, “after I had told you the afternoon. But I thought it would be so ripping to get here before lunch.” “Oh yes: that’s all right,” said Colin absently. At this moment Violet came in, and Colin’s manner instantly changed. “Ah, Vi, darling,” he said. “There you are! I got back very late last night, for I thought I would dine with Aunt Hester. She was quite delightful: also quite astounding. About eleven she went off to a dance in a short pink dress and a wreath of flowers. She promised to come down here to-day, and stop till I go to Capri.” Dennis pricked an ear at this. “Oh, when will that be, Father?” he said. “One of these days.... And then, if she likes, and you don’t mind, darling, she can stop on here, though I really believe she would like best to come to Capri, and disport herself like a small, imperishable, highly-coloured sea-nymph. How she would astonish the islanders!” Dennis gave a cackle of laughter at this picture. Best of all was the gay good humour in his father’s voice. Colin turned to him.