“And who told you?” Mordaunt inquired.

“Me?  I overheard it.”

“How?”

The question came sternly, but Noel was sublimely unabashed.

“The usual way.  How does one generally overhear things?  I hid behind a shutter once when Aunt Phil and Murdoch, our man of business, were having a talk.  She pitched it pretty strong, I can tell you.  I should have felt quite sorry for the old girl if I hadn’t known that her husband had left her more than she could possibly know what to do with.  As it was, I was rather glad than otherwise, for she’s disgustingly mean over trifles.  And people who can shell out and won’t should be made to.”

Mordaunt received this axiom in silence.  As a matter of fact he was somewhat staggered by the information thus airily imparted.  But he did not question the truth of it.  He only wondered that he had never considered such a possibility before.

Another shout of merriment from the boy at his side made him look round.  “Well?  What’s the joke?”

“You!” yelled the youngster, between his paroxysms.  “I’m awfully sorry.  You’re such a good sort.  But I can’t help it.  I say, Trevor—­aren’t you glad just—­that you’re one of the family?”

Mordaunt aimed a blow at him that he evaded with ease.  “If you don’t behave yourself I shall use the privilege in a fashion you won’t care for,” he said, “even if it is a waste of time.”

At which threat Noel confidingly hooked his arm once more through that of his brother-in-law and begged him in a voice hoarse with laughter to stop rotting.

CHAPTER III

DISASTER

Chris and Noel set off in the motor that afternoon in excellent spirits to pay the projected call upon Mrs. Pouncefort.

They found the lady of the house at home, and spent an animated hour with her; for although she never appeared to welcome her visitors or to exert herself in any degree to entertain them, most of them seemed to find it difficult to get away.

When they departed at length they carried with them an invitation to a garden fete which had been arranged for the following week.  It included the whole party, to Chris’s great satisfaction.

“It will be the very thing for Bertie,” she said.  “It is just what he needs.”

Noel, who entertained a sweeping prejudice against all foreigners, was inclined to dispute this, and a lively argument ensued in consequence, which lasted during the greater part of the run home.

Chris was at the wheel, being a fairly experienced driver by that time, though Mordaunt was very insistent that she should always have someone responsible by her side.  On this occasion, however, Holmes, who was acting as chauffeur, had been imperiously relegated to the back seat by Noel, who intended to have his turn before the end of the ride.  He had driven twice before under his brother-in-law’s supervision, and he considered himself an expert.