The door had opened. It was Mr. Weatherley who appeared. Mr.
Weatherley was distinctly fussy and there was some return of his
pompous manner.

"My dear Fenella!" he exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing in
here, with half your bridge tables as yet unarranged? Your guests
are wondering what has become of you."

"Has any one fresh turned up?" she asked, setting down the
statuette.

"A Lady Raynham has just arrived," Mr. Weatherley replied, "and is
making herself very disagreeable because there is no one to tell her
at which table she is to play. I heard a young man who came with
her, too, asking Parkins what time supper was. I do not wish to
criticize the manners of your guests, but really, my dear Fenella,
some of them do seem to have strange ideas."

"Lady Raynham," she remarked, coldly, "is a person who should be
glad to find herself under any respectable roof without making
complaints. Mr. Chetwode," she continued, turning to him, "it is my
wish to finish showing you my treasures. Therefore, will you wait
here, please, for a short time, while I go and start another bridge
table? I shall return quite soon. Come, Samuel."

Mr. Weatherley coughed. He seemed unwilling to leave Arnold behind.

"I dare say young Chetwode would like a hand at bridge himself, my
dear," he protested.