The procession drew up at the tea-table, where its leader proceeded to deposit the tea-pot. For a moment there was a pause in the conversation, while the hearts of the Welwyns stood still. The Twins, uncontrolled, sometimes erred on the side of originality. "He’s the Queen," explained The Cure, indicating the flinching figure of Mr. Stillbottle. "Yesh; and we’re holdin’ up of his train," added The Caution. Next moment Connie Carmyle had captured them both. "You darlings!" she cried, and carried them off to the window-seat. The situation was saved. "Little pets!" observed Lady Adela, smiling. Even Sylvia forgot to pose for a moment. Tea was served amid a hum of cheerful conversation. The children had evoked the maternal instinct, and all was well. Only Mr. Stillbottle remained cold. "You oughter ’ave kep’ them locked up somewhere," he announced severely to Tilly; and left the room. "I don’t see your son here, Mrs. Welwyn," said Lady Adela. "We had the pleasure of his company for a few minutes on Saturday." "He will be here any minute, your--Lady Adela," replied Mrs. Welwyn with a jerk. "He is usually kept in the City till close on five, poor boy." "That aged retainer of yours seems to be a bit of an autocrat, Tilly," said Dicky, taking Mrs. Carmyle’s chair at the tea-table. "Yes," agreed Tilly, feeling rather miserable at having to talk to Dicky in this strain; "but you know what old servants are. In their eyes we never grow up." "Has he been with you for long, then?" enquired Sylvia, with a deep appearance of interest. "How long has Russell been with us, Mother?" said Tilly, noting that Mrs. Welwyn’s conversation with Lady Adela was beginning to flag. "I can’t remember, dear. It seems a long time, anyhow," replied Mrs. Welwyn with sincerity. "Ah, here is Percy. Come in, my boy. Just in time to hand round the cakes!" "You can trust little Perce," observed that engaging youth, entirely at his ease, "to be on the spot at the right moment. How de do, Lady Adela? I hope this finds you as it leaves me." He shook the very limp hand of Lady Adela, and having bestowed an ingratiating smile upon Sylvia, proceeded amid a slowly intensifying silence to offer a humorous greeting to Mr. Mainwaring. Finally he turned to Dicky, and slapped him boisterously upon the shoulder. "Well, my brave Ricardo," he enquired, "how goes it?" "Percy, dear old thing," responded Dicky promptly, with his most vacant laugh, "how splendid to see you again! Come and tell me all about your club run on Sunday." He drew the flamboyant cyclist to a place of safety, and Tilly breathed again. "There is sugar and cream in this cup, Lady Adela," said Amelia, with a neat bob-curtsey.