hings to happen at the same time every day.
Now Mamma and I don't agree with him, you see. So it's rather pink
sometimes."

"I expect it is," Urquhart said.

"Mamma of course likes to be quiet a bit. She doesn't like
ructions--hay, and all that. So I keep myself pretty close."

"Quite right," said the Judge.

"I know," Lancelot said, dreamily, and then with great briskness,
"Beastly grind, all the same." The Judge had a fit of coughing, and
Urquhart got up and looked about. Then the Judge said that he too
should catch it if he didn't go back and make himself polite.

Lancelot led the way back, but at the entry of the drawing-room, where
the talk was buzzing like bees in a lime-tree, he put his hand on the
switch, and showed the whites of his eyes. "Shall I dare you to
switch it off?" he said to Urquhart, who replied, "Don't, or I shall
do it." Lancelot and he entered the room; but before the Judge
followed there was a momentary flicker of the lights. Lancelot nudged
Urquhart. "_He's_ all right," he said out of one corner of his mouth.
"Oh, he's all right," Urquhart agreed.

They both went to Lucy, and Lingen looked mildly round, interrupted in
his flow. Lancelot's greeting was, "Darling, you really must go to
bed." He knew it. It was so obvious--the abhorrent eyeglass
apart--that he didn't even try the pathetic "Only a week before
school."

He got up, enquiring of his mother if she would swear to come up
presently. "Well, good-bye," he said to Urquhart, and held out his
hand.

"Good night to you," said Urquhart. "Anyhow, you know the worst."

But Lancelot shook his cautious head. "No," he said, "not the
worst"--and then with a deep chuckle, "but the best. Hoho! Two wives!"
With that he went.

"Jolly chap," said Urquhart, and sat himself down by Lucy, to Lingen's
inexpressible weariness. She warmed to his praise, but denied him, her
conscience at work. "No, you mustn't sit down. I shall take you to
talk to Lady Bliss. You'll like her."

"No, I shan't," he said. "I can see that. And she'll think I've
corrupted her husband." But he had to go. Lingen, also, she recruited
for service. He had had a good innings and found himself able to be
enthusiastic about Urquhart. He could bear to discuss him--in possible
relations with himself, of course. Miss Bacchus sized him up aloud,
according to her habit. "Jimmy Urquhart--a good man? Yes, he's a live
man. No flies on Jimmy Urquhart. Been everywhere, had a bit of most