CHAPTER XIII
LUCIDITY ITSELF
I
"This, Mum," announced Dicky in tones of immense pride, "is Tilly. MissWelwyn, you know."
He advanced to the girl, who still stood hesitatingly in the opening ofthe curtains, and drew her forward by the hand.
"Come along, little thing," he said, in a voice which made ConnieCarmyle's heart warm to him. "Don't be frightened. I present to you mylady mother. You will know one another intimately in no time," he addeduntruthfully.
Miss Tilly Welwyn advanced with faltering steps. It was seen now thatshe 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'sBurberry coat, and wore a motor veil tied under her chin. Rain drippedfrom her in all directions. Timidly she extended a glistening andfroggy paw in the direction of her hostess.
"How do you do, Miss Weller?" said Lady Adela, mystified but well-bred.
"HOW DO YOU DO, MISS WELLER?" SAID LADY ADELA, MYSTIFIEDBUT 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'ssurname, and then introduced Mrs. Carmyle.
"Tilly," he said, "this is Connie--one of the very best that everstepped! Don't forget that: you will never hear a truer word."
The two girls regarded one another for a moment, and then shook handswith instinctive friendliness. The small stranger's face cleared, andshe smiled, first at Connie and then up at Dicky.
Thereafter came a pause. The atmosphere was tense with enquiry. Onecould almost feel the Marconigrams radiating from Lady Adela. Butapparently The Freak's coherer was out of order. He merely turnedtowards the staircase, and exclaimed:--
"Hallo, here are Dad and Sylvia. These are the last two," he added in areassuring undertone to Miss Welwyn. "Quite tame, both of them."
Mr. Mainwaring's face lit up joyfully at the sight of his son, and hehurried forward.
"Dick, my boy, you've arrived at last! Capital!" He clapped theprodigal on the shoulder.
"Yes, Dad," replied Dicky with equal zest; "we have arrived. This isTilly!"
Mr. Mainwaring, entirely at sea but innately hospitable, greeted Tillyheartily. "You must be terribly cold," he said. "Come to the fire andlet me take off that wet garment of yours."
He led the girl to the blaze, then turned to shoot a glance ofrespectful enquiry in the direction of his august spouse. It wasignored. Meanwhile Dicky had introduced the languid but far fromindifferent Sylvia.
"Now you all know one another," he said. "Sylvia, be a dear old soul andtake 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 alittle lamely--Sylvia's patrician calm had rather dashed him asusual--"we walked from the station--did n't we, Tilly?"
Tilly nodded dutifully, eyeing Sylvia the while with some distrust.
"You will take care of her, won't you?" concluded the solicitous Dicky.
"Surely!" replied Sylvia, in her grandest manner. "This way, MissWelwyn."
She swept across the hall and up the staircase, followed by the small,moist, and mysterious figure of the newcomer.
At the foot of the stair Tilly halted and looked back. Dicky, who hadbeen following her with his eyes, was at her side in a moment.
"What is it?" he asked in a low voice.
The girl laid an appealing hand on his arm.
"Don't leave me, Dicky!" she whispered.
The Freak replied by tucking her arm under his own and propelling hervigorously up to the turn of the stair.
"Don't be a little juggins," he said affectionately. "_I_ can't come andchange your shoes and stockings for you, can I?"
Miss Welwyn, acquiescing in this eminently correct view of the matter,smiled submissively.
"All right," she said. "Au revoir!"
She ran lightly upstairs after the disappearing Sylvia, turning to waveher hand to Dicky before she disappeared.
Dicky, who had waited below for that purpose, acknowledged the salute,and turned to find Mrs. Carmyle at his elbow.
"Dicky," announced that small Samaritan, "I am going up, too. Sylviamight bite your ewe lamb."
The Freak smiled gratefully.
"The Lady and the Tiger--eh?" he said. "Connie, you are a brick! Betender with her, won't you?" he added gently. "She's scared to death atpresent, and no wonder!"
Connie Carmyle, with a reassuring pat upon the anxious young man's arm,turned and sped upstairs. Dicky, hands in pockets and head in air,strolled happily back into the circle of firelight and took up his standupon the hearthrug. Lady Adela, looking like a large volcano in thevery last stages of self-suppression, sat simmering over the teacups.
The heir of the Mainwarings addressed his parents affectionately.
"Well, dear old things," he enquired, "how are we? So sorry to be latefor tea, but it was an eventful and perilous journey."
The long-overdue eruption came at last.
"Dick," demanded Lady Adela explosively, "why have you brought thatyoung person here?"
"Young per--oh, Tilly?" Dicky smiled ecstatically to himself at thevery sound of Miss Welwyn's name. "Tilly? Well, I don't see what elseI could have done with her, Mummie dear. I could n't leave her at thestation, could I? But I must tell you about our adventures. First ofall we lost Percy."
"Dick," repeated Lady Adela, "_who--is--_?"
"Who is Percy?" asked Dicky readily. "I forgot; I have n't told youabout Percy. He is her brother. A most amazing fellow: knowseverything. Can explain to you in two minutes all the things you havefailed to understand for years. Teach you something you did n't know, Ishould n't wonder, Mother. He is going to introduce me to some of hisfriends, and put me up for his club."
"What club, my boy?" interposed Mr. Mainwaring, snatching at this gleamof light in the general murkiness.
"'The Crouch End Gladiators,' I think they 're called," said Dicky."But I have n't met any of them yet."
"Where is Crouch End?" enquired Lady Adela. "And why should one have aclub there?"
"It is a cycling club," explained Dicky. "You go out for spins in thecountry on Saturday afternoons. Topping! I'll bring them down here oneday if you like! Each member is allowed to have one lady guest," headded, with a happy smile. "But to resume. We lost friend Percy atWaterloo. He went to get a bicycle ticket, or something, and was nomore seen. The train started without him. Tilly was fearfully upsetabout it: said she thought it was n't quite proper for her to come downwithout a chaperon on her first visit."
"She proposes to come again, then?" said Lady Adela, with a shortquavering laugh.
Dicky stopped short, and regarded his mother with unfeignedastonishment.
"Come again? I should think she was coming again! Anyhow, the poorlittle thing was quite distressed when we lost Perce."
"That, dear," remarked Lady Adela icily, "is what I should callstraining at a gnat and swallowing a camel. And now, my boy, let me begyou to tell me--"
Dicky, who was too fully occupied with the recollections of his recentjourney to be aware of the physical and mental strain to which he wassubjecting his revered parents, suddenly started off down a fresh alleyof irrelevant reminiscence.
"Talking of camels," he said, "there is the goat."
"Bless my soul, my dear lad!" exclaimed Mr. Mainwaring. "What goat?"
Dicky was perfectly ready to explain.
"When Tilly and I got out of the train at Shotley Beauchamp station," hebegan, "and found that you two absent-minded old dears had forgotten tosend anything to meet us--"
"But Dick, my boy," interposed the old gentleman--Lady Adela was rapidlyprogressing beyond the stage of articulate remonstrance--"how could yourmother be expected to divine your intentions with regard to trains, orto know that you were br
inging down--er--a guest?"
"I wrote and told you," said Dicky.
"When, pray?" enquired Lady Adela, finding speech again.
"The day before yesterday," said Dicky positively; "breaking the newsabout Tilly, and when we were coming, and--"
"We received no letter from you," replied Lady Adela.
"But I wrote it, Mum!" cried Dicky. "I spent three hours over it. Itwas the most important letter I have ever written in my life! Is itlikely a man could forget--"
"Feel in your pockets, my boy," suggested the experienced Mr.Mainwaring.
Dicky smiled indulgently upon his resourceful parent, and pulled out thecontents of his breast-pocket--a handful of old letters and a cigarettecase.
"Anything to oblige you, Dad," he ran on, scanning the addresses. "ButI know I posted the thing. A man does not forget on such an oc-- No!you are right. I'm a liar. Here it is!"
He produced a fat envelope from the bunch, and threw it down upon thetea-table.