“Olivia is as big a fool as Arabella,” responded Ravenscar shortly. “They are both coming up to town next week. The 14th Foot are stationed near the Wells.”

This grim pronouncement apparently conveyed a world of information to Lady Mablethorpe. After a somewhat pensive pause, she said: “It is time dear Arabella was thinking of marriage. After all, I was married when I was scarce—”

“She never thinks of anything else,” said Ravenscar. “The latest is some nameless whelp in a scarlet coat.”

“You ought to keep her more under your eye,” said his aunt. “You are as much her guardian as Mrs Ravenscar.”

“I’m going to,” said Ravenscar.

“Perhaps if we could marry her suitably—”

“My dear ma’am,” said Mr Ravenscar impatiently, “Arabella is no more fit to be married than if she were still in long coats! I have it from Olivia that she has been head over ears in love with no fewer than five aspiring gentlemen in as many months.”

“Good God, Max! If you don’t take care, we shall have some dreadful fortune-hunter running off with her!”

“It wouldn’t surprise me at all.”

Lady Mablethorpe showed slight signs of agitation. “You are the most provoking creature! How can you talk in that cool way about such a disastrous possibility?”

“Well, at least I should be rid of her,” said Mr Ravenscar callously. “If you’re thinking of marrying her to Adrian, I can tell you now that—”

“Oh, Max, that is what I wanted to see you about!” interrupted his aunt, recalled by the mention of her son’s name to the more pressing problem of the moment. “I am quite distracted with worry!”

“Oh?” said Ravenscar, with casual interest. “What’s the young fool been doing?”

Lady Mablethorpe bristled instinctively at this uncomplimentary description of her only child, but a moment’s reflection brought the unwelcome conviction that the slighting term had been earned. “He thinks he is in love,” she said tragically.