He took the head of the breakfast table. Really nothing could ever discompose Captain Carbury. He poured out tea and coffee for us both. Aunt Penelope ate her breakfast with appetite; then she desired me to sit by the window and watch. "We have given her till twelve o'clock, but the woman may send round long before then, that's what I am expecting." I looked at Vernon. The waiter had removed the breakfast things; we had the room to ourselves. Vernon went and shut the door, then he came up to Aunt Penelope and took her hand. "Twelve o'clock won't make any difference, my dear friend," he said. "Why, what on earth do you mean, Vernon?" was her remark. "You surely are not backing out of it!" "Heather and I can have nothing to do with it." "You and Heather? what nonsense you talk! I don't believe I am hearing you aright." "Yes, you are. Major Grayson was here last night; he came after you had gone to bed. He doesn't wish it done; he says he will abide by his bargain. He is as brave a soldier as I have ever come across, and for my part I don't see why he should be deprived of his laurel wreath." "Oh, what are you talking about!" said Aunt Penelope. "His laurel wreath! Why, you know as well as I do that he's cashiered from the army. And you call that a glory, or whatever else you consider a laurel wreath!" "In the eyes of God he is a hero, and he doesn't much mind what man says. Now, I'll tell you everything. You've got to listen--you can't go against a noble spirit like his." Aunt Penelope fidgeted and trembled. A great spot of pink colour came on one of her cheeks, leaving the other pale. "Well, have your say," she murmured. "Have your say, I'm sure I don't care." But when Vernon had done speaking, there was my dear old auntie crying as though her heart would break. I was about to comfort her, or at least to try to do so, when there came a hasty knock at the door. A servant appeared with a telegram on a salver. Vernon tore it open, it was addressed to him, and had been brought across from his hotel. His face turned pale. "There is no answer," he said to the man, who withdrew. Then he put his hand on my shoulder, and with his other hand he drew Aunt Penelope to her feet. "I have something to tell you both," he said. "We are sent for; we have to go to Hanbury Square. There has been a very bad accident. I cannot quite understand this telegram, but he is hurt. His motor came into collision with another last night, and he was thrown out and hurt rather badly on his head. It may not be a great deal; it may be--everything. We are to go at once."