"Gone out--to look for a job!" replied Dicky through his clenched teeth. "Just as if a snug home and the life of a lady were things she had never dreamed of!" His eyes blazed. "Great Heavens, Connie--the pluck of the child! What a brute it makes me feel!" Connie patted his hand maternally, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. Presently Dicky continued, in a more even voice:-- "So my mother is coming up this morning--to strike while the iron is hot--eh?" "’To make a direct appeal to Miss Welwyn’s better nature,’ was what she _said_," replied Mrs. Carmyle cautiously. "I am afraid there will be a bit of a scrap," said Dicky thoughtfully. "My dear mother’s normal attitude towards her fellow-creatures is that of a righteous person compelled to travel third-class with a first-class ticket; but when she goes on the warpath into the bargain--well, that is where I take cover." "She’ll roll the Welwyns out flat," observed Mr. Carmyle, with that conviction which only painful experience can instill. "She won’t roll Tilly out flat," said Dicky. "Nor Mrs. Welwyn either," added Connie; "so kindly refrain from putting in your oar, Bill! We are n’t all terrified of Lady Adela. _Cowardy, cowardy, cus--_" Mr. Carmyle, flushing with shame, abruptly invited his small oppressor to switch off; and Dicky proceeded to review the situation. "I don’t think my dear parent will get much change out of any of the Welwyns," he said. "They are a fairly competent lot. Moreover, they have burned their boats and have nothing to lose; so I expect there will be some very pretty work. My lady mother is an undoubted champion in her class, I admit, but she has got a bit out of condition lately. Managing Dad and harrying the County are n’t really sufficient to keep a woman of her fighting-weight up to the mark. Still, I don’t particularly want her big guns let loose on Tilly." "Tilly has gone out for the day, I suppose?" said Connie. "So I was told. But how did you guess?" Connie Carmyle flapped her small hands despairingly. "Oh, what creatures!" she cried, apparently apostrophising the male sex in general. "Can’t you understand anything or anybody--not even the girl you love? Of course, she is out for the day; and if you go there to-morrow she will be out for the day, too!" "Why?" asked Dicky blankly. "Yes--why?" echoed that sympathetic but obtuse Philistine, Bill Carmyle. His wife turned upon him like lightning.