Francis was surprised, when he descended for breakfast the next morning, to find the table laid for one only.

The butler who was waiting, handed him the daily papers and wheeled the electric heater to his side.
"Is no one else breakfasting ?" Francis asked.
"Sir Timothy and Mrs.Hilditch are always served in their rooms, sir.
Her ladyship is taking her coffee upstairs." Francis ate his breakfast, glanced through the Times, lit a cigarette and went round to the garage for his car.

The butler met him as he drove up before the porch.
"Sir Timothy begs you to excuse him this morning, sir," he announced.
"His secretary has arrived from town with a very large correspondence which they are now engaged upon." "And Mrs.Hilditch ?" Francis ventured.
"I have not seen her maid this morning, sir," the man replied, "but Mrs.
Hilditch never rises before midday.

Sir Timothy hopes that you slept well, sir, and would like you to sign the visitors' book." Francis signed his name mechanically, and was turning away when Lady Cynthia called to him from the stairs.

She was dressed for travelling and followed by a maid, carrying her dressing-case.
"Will you take me up to town, Mr.Ledsam ?" she asked.
"Delighted," he answered.
Their dressing-cases were strapped together behind and Lady Cynthia sank into the cushions by his side.