Miss Greeby smiled grimly, and looked at his puny stature.  “Women have to protect themselves from men like you,” she said, amidst great laughter, for the physical difference between her and the man was quite amusing.

“It’s all very well talking,” said Garvington crossly.  “But I don’t trust these gypsies.”

“Why don’t you clear them off your land then?” asked Silver daringly.

Garvington glared until his gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of his red face.  “I’ll clear everyone to bed, that’s what I’ll do,” he retorted, crossing the room to the middle French window of the drawing-room.  “I wish you fellows would stop your larking out there,” he cried.  “It’s close upon midnight, and all decent people should be in bed.”

“Since when have you joined the Methodists, Garvington?” asked an officer who had come over from some twelve-mile distant barracks to pass the night, and a girl behind him began to sing a hymn.

Lady Agnes frowned.  “I wish you wouldn’t do that, Miss Ardale,” she said in sharp rebuke, and the girl had the sense to be silent, while Garvington fussed over the closing of the window shutters.

“Going to stand a siege?” asked Miss Greeby, laughing.  “Or do you expect burglars, particularly on this night.”

“I don’t expect them at all,” retorted the little man.  “But I tell you I hate the idea of these lawless gypsies about the place.  Still, if anyone comes,” he added grimly, “I shall shoot.”

“Then the attacking person or party needn’t bother,” cried the officer.  “I shouldn’t mind standing up to your fire, myself, Garvington.”

With laughter and chatter and much merriment at the host’s expense, the guests went their several ways, the women to chat in one another’s dressing-rooms and the men to have a final smoke and a final drink.  Garvington, with two footmen, and his butler, went round the house, carefully closing all the shutters, and seeing that all was safe.  His sister rather marvelled at this excessive precaution, and said as much to her hostess.

“It wouldn’t matter if the gypsies did break in,” she said when alone with Lady Garvington in her own bedroom.  “It would be some excitement, for all these people must find it very dull here.”

“I’m sure I do my best, Agnes,” said the sister-in-law plaintively.

“Of course, you do, you poor dear,” said the other, kissing her.  “But Garvington always asks people here who haven’t two ideas.  A horrid, rowdy lot they are.  I wonder you stand it.”

“Garvington asks those he likes, Agnes.”

“I see.  He hasn’t any brains, and his guests suit him for the same reason.”

“They eat a great deal,” wailed Lady Garvington.  “I’m sure I might as well be a cook.  All my time is taken up with feeding them.”

“Well, Freddy married you, Jane, because you had a genius for looking after food.  Your mother was much the same; she always kept a good table.”  Lady Agnes laughed.  “Yours was a most original wooing, Jane.”