I "This, Mum," announced Dicky in tones of immense pride, "is Tilly. Miss Welwyn, you know." He advanced to the girl, who still stood hesitatingly in the opening of the curtains, and drew her forward by the hand. "Come along, little thing," he said, in a voice which made Connie Carmyle’s heart warm to him. "Don’t be frightened. I present to you my lady mother. You will know one another intimately in no time," he added untruthfully. Miss Tilly Welwyn advanced with faltering steps. It was seen now that she was _petite_, almost the same height and build as Connie Carmyle, with great grey eyes and a pretty mouth. She was wrapped in a man’s Burberry coat, and wore a motor veil tied under her chin. Rain dripped from her in all directions. Timidly she extended a glistening and froggy paw in the direction of her hostess. "How do you do, Miss Weller?" said Lady Adela, mystified but well-bred. [Illustration: "HOW DO YOU DO, MISS WELLER?" SAID LADY ADELA, MYSTIFIED BUT WELL-BRED] "Very well, thank you," replied the visitor in a frightened squeak. Dicky cheerfully set his parent right upon the subject of Miss Welwyn’s surname, and then introduced Mrs. Carmyle. "Tilly," he said, "this is Connie--one of the very best that ever stepped! Don’t forget that: you will never hear a truer word." The two girls regarded one another for a moment, and then shook hands with instinctive friendliness. The small stranger’s face cleared, and she smiled, first at Connie and then up at Dicky. Thereafter came a pause. The atmosphere was tense with enquiry. One could almost feel the Marconigrams radiating from Lady Adela. But apparently The Freak’s coherer was out of order. He merely turned towards the staircase, and exclaimed:-- "Hallo, here are Dad and Sylvia. These are the last two," he added in a reassuring undertone to Miss Welwyn. "Quite tame, both of them." Mr. Mainwaring’s face lit up joyfully at the sight of his son, and he hurried forward. "Dick, my boy, you’ve arrived at last! Capital!" He clapped the prodigal on the shoulder. "Yes, Dad," replied Dicky with equal zest; "we have arrived. This is Tilly!" Mr. Mainwaring, entirely at sea but innately hospitable, greeted Tilly heartily. "You must be terribly cold," he said. "Come to the fire and let me take off that wet garment of yours." He led the girl to the blaze, then turned to shoot a glance of respectful enquiry in the direction of his august spouse. It was ignored. Meanwhile Dicky had introduced the languid but far from indifferent Sylvia. "Now you all know one another," he said. "Sylvia, be a dear old soul and take Miss Welwyn up to your room and give her some dry things, will you? She is soaking, and her luggage is n’t here yet. You see," he added a little lamely--Sylvia’s patrician calm had rather dashed him as usual--"we walked from the station--did n’t we, Tilly?" Tilly nodded dutifully, eyeing Sylvia the while with some distrust.