Under cover of the lady's withdrawal Mr. Tombs said, "I didn't know there was an aunt."
"Well, there is, as you see," said Jane, resenting what she took to be a certain cavalierness of tone.
"I beg your pardon," he said, turning his thin face and dark glasses towards her. "I have a detestable habit of thinking aloud. I was only wondering whether I ought to have addressed myself at first to the elder lady—as a matter of courtesy—instead of to Miss Craye."
"Oh, not at all," said Jane, mollified. "Auntie, this is Mr. Tombs, who is coming to stay with us to-morrow."
Auntie greeted him with delicate, gentle cordiality.
"I hope you will be happy with us, Mr. Tombs," she said; "we will do our best to make your visit a pleasant one. Or have you come to notify us of some alteration in your arrangements?"
"Only in so far as to ask whether I may bring my traps in the afternoon instead of the morning. Because I find"
"Certainly," said Jane, forgetting for a moment her part of subservient niece; "the rooms are ready."
"Dear Jane," said the aunt gently, "Mr. Tombs was speaking. You were saying? . . ."
He said it again, and Jane remained tongue-tied while the untrue aunt answered with suave propriety. He replied suitably, and the interview ended by Jane's offering to show him out—an office which at all times appealed to her. "The maids are at supper," she said.
In the hall he said:
"I really am most awfully sorry I said I didn't know there was an aunt. I can't think how I could."
"You won't see very much of her," said Jane.
"Oh, the more the merrier, with such a delicious old lady. . . . There I go again! Do, please, forgive me. I'm like Cheviot Hill: I'm a plain man—I speak as I think."
Jane felt wonderfully cheered.
"Oh, do you know 'Engaged'?" she asked. "Isn't it lovely? Wouldn't it be jolly to act it?"
