Doris heard an awkward and rather tremulous laugh.  Upon which she opened her eyes, no less embarrassed than her hostess, and did as she was told.  Lady Dunstable made her as comfortable as a hand so little used to the feminine arts could manage.

“Now I will send you in some luncheon, and go and talk to Lord Dunstable.  Please rest till I come back.”

* * * * *

Doris lay still.  She wanted very much to see Arthur, and she wondered, till her head ached, whether he would think her a great fool for her pains.  Surely he would come and find her soon.  Oh, the time people spent on lunching in these big houses!

The vibration of the train seemed to be still running through her limbs.  She was indeed wearied out, and in a few minutes, what with the sudden quiet and the softness of the cushions which had been spread for her, she fell unexpectedly asleep.

When she woke, she saw her husband sitting beside her—­patiently—­with a tray on his knee.

“Oh, Arthur!—­what time is it?  Have I been asleep long?”

“Nearly an hour.  I looked in before, but Lady Dunstable wouldn’t let me wake you.  She—­and he—­and I—­have been talking.  Upon my word, Doris, you’ve been and gone and done it!  But don’t say anything!  You’ve got to eat this chicken first.”

He fed her with it, looking at her the while with affectionate and admiring eyes.  Somehow, Doris became dimly aware that she was going to be a heroine.

“Have they told you, Arthur?”

“Everything that you’ve told her. (No—­not everything!—­thought Doris.) You are a brick, Doris!  And the way you’ve done it!  That’s what impresses her ladyship!  She knows very well that she would have muffed it.  You’re the practical woman!  Well, you can rest on your laurels, darling!  You’ll have the whole place at your feet—­beginning with your husband—­who’s been dreadfully bored without you.  There!”

He put down his Jovian head, and rubbed his cheek tenderly against hers, till she turned round, and gave him the lightest of kisses.

“Was he an abominable correspondent?” he said, repentantly.

“Abominable!”

“Did you hate him!”

“Whenever I had time.  When do you start on your cruise, Arthur!”

“Any time—­some time—­never!” he said, gaily.  “Give me that Capel Curig address, and I’ll wire for the rooms this afternoon.  I came to the conclusion this morning that the same yacht couldn’t hold her ladyship and me.”

“Oh!—­so she’s been chastening you?” said Doris, well pleased.

Meadows nodded.

“The rod has not been spared—­since Sunday.  It was then she got tired of me.  I mark the day, you see, almost the hour.  My goodness!—­if you’re not always up to your form—­epigrams, quotations—­all pat—­”

“She plucks you—­without mercy.  Down you slither into the second class!” Doris’s look sparkled.