"I was going to say what a pretty carriage drive this is," I replied rapidly. "You will be glad of a cup of tea, though?" "Yes, indeed," replied my companion brightly; but her attitude said "Coward!" as plainly as could be. Still, there are some questions which one can hardly ask a lady after an acquaintance of only ten minutes. "There is the house," continued Miss Damer, as our conveyance weathered a great clump of rhododendrons. "Are n’t you glad that this long and dusty journey is over?" "Not _now_!" I replied. My little preceptress turned and bestowed on me a beaming smile. "That is _much_ better!" she remarked approvingly. CHAPTER V VERY ODIOUS I We found the house-party at tea in the hall of The Towers. The Mainwaring parents proved to be a little old gentleman, with grey side-whiskers and a subdued manner, and an imposing matron of fifty, who deliberately filled the teapot to the brim with lukewarm water upon our approach and then gave me two fingers to shake. To Miss Damer was accorded a "Constance--dear child!" and a cold peck upon the right cheek. After that I was introduced to Dicky’s sister Sylvia--a tall and picturesque young woman, dressed in black velvet with a lace collar. She wore the air of a tragedy queen--not, it struck me, because she felt like a tragedy queen, but because she considered that the pose suited her. The party was completed by a subaltern named Crick--a jovial youth with a _penchant_ for comic songs, obviously attached to the person of Miss Sylvia Mainwaring--and of course, The Freak’s lady-love, Miss Hilda Beverley, to whom I was shortly presented. I am afraid our conversation was not a conspicuous success. Miss Beverley was tall, handsome, patrician, and cultivated, obviously well-off and an admirable talker. Still, it takes two to make a dialogue, and when one’s own contributions to the same, however unprovocative, are taken up _seriatim_, analysed, turned inside out, and set aside with an amused smile by a lady who evidently regards a conversation with one of her _fiancé’s_ former associates as a chastening but beneficial form of intellectual discipline, a man may be excused for not sparkling. Half an hour later, perspiring gently, I was rescued by The Freak and conducted to the smoking-room. "You never told me you were engaged, old man," I said, as we settled down to a little much-needed refreshment. "It’s a fact, though," replied The Freak proudly. "_A marriage has been arranged_--and all that. Say when." "_And will shortly take place_, I suppose?" "No immediate hurry," said The Freak easily. "There are one or two things that Hilda wants to cure me of before we face the starter. This, for instance." He held up an extremely dilute whiskey-and-soda. "Between meals, that is. Likewise my--er--casual outlook on life in general." "Miss Beverley will have her hands full," I observed.