"For our extremely vague greeting to you just now," explained her host. "You see"--he clapped Dicky fondly on the shoulder--"this intellectual son of ours forgot to post the letter announcing your--telling us about you. We have only just heard the news. Now that we have you, my dear"--the old gentleman’s eyes beamed affectionately--"we are going to make much of you!" "Oh, thank you! You _are_ kind!" cried Tilly impulsively; and smiled gratefully upon her future father-in-law. His were the first official words of welcome that she had received. "Good old Dad!" said Dicky. Meanwhile Lady Adela had come to the conclusion that her male belongings were overdoing it. "Do you take sugar, Miss Welwyn?" she enquired loudly. "Yes, please," said Tilly, still engaged in smiling affectionately upon the Mainwarings, _père et fils_. "I wonder now," continued Mr. Mainwaring, "if you are in any way related to an old friend of mine--or perhaps I should say acquaintance, for he moved on a higher plane than I--Lucius Welwyn? I was at school with him more than forty years ago, and also at Cambridge." "Lucius Welwyn?" cried Tilly, her eyes glowing. "He is my Daddy--my father!" "You don’t say so? Capital!" Abel Mainwaring turned to his wife. "Adela, do you hear that? Miss Welwyn and I have established a bond of union already. Her father was actually at school with me." Lady Adela flatly declined to join in the general enthusiasm. "Are you sure, dear?" was all she said. "There might be two." Mr. Mainwaring pointed out, with truth, that Lucius Welwyn was an uncommon name. "But we can easily make sure," he said. "The Lucius Welwyn whom I remember was a Fellow of his College. Did your father--" "Yes, Dad was a Fellow of his College for some years," said Tilly. "I think I will come a little farther from the fire now, if you don’t mind. I am quite warm." "Come and sit here by me, dear Miss Welwyn," said Lady Adela with sudden affability. "I want to have a cosy little chat with you. Dick, you are very wet and muddy. Go and change." "All right," said Dicky obediently. As he left the hall he said something in a low voice to Mrs. Carmyle. That small champion of the oppressed nodded comprehendingly, and established herself at a writing-table under the curtained window. "Abel," enquired Lady Adela, in pursuance of her policy of once more clearing the decks for action, "what have you done with Mr. Rylands?" "I quite forgot him," confessed Mr. Mainwaring. "I was so much occupied with Miss Welwyn. I fear he is still in the smoking-room." "Go and let him out--by the side door," commanded Lady Adela. "Come on, Dad!" said Dicky. Father and son disappeared, arm-in-arm; Lady Adela and Sylvia closed in upon the flinching Miss Welwyn; and Mrs. Carmyle, taking up her pen, addressed herself to the composition of an epistle to her lord and master. Lady Adela looked round, and remarked in solicitous tones:--