"Change, dear boy? No, of course not. You haven't lost your luggage, have you?"

"No, but it's past nine."

"Dreadful, my dear. We were afraid of an accident."

Felicity tugged at her cousin's sleeve. "Frank, you couldn't have got lost for a whole hour! Own up! You started late!"

"You're a little beast, Felicity. Let me go, I must have a wash."

He came downstairs again five minutes later and was escorted by Felicity to the dining room. While he ate she sat with her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her hands.

"The ball," she announced, "is on Wednesday." Frank groaned. "Did you bring a fancy dress?" Felicity said anxiously.

"I did."

"What is it?" demanded Felicity, agog with female interest.

"Mephistopheles. Suits my style of beauty."

She was doubtful. "I don't really mind about that," she informed him. "You see, I'm going as a Powder-Puff, and you won't suit my style at all."

"God forbid. A Powder-Puff! Look here, what is this ball about, and why, and where?"

Her brown eyes opened to their widest extent. "Good Lord, didn't Mummy tell you in her letter?"

He laughed. "Aunt Marion's letters are exactly like her conversation - the important bits left out."

"Well, it's at Norton Manor. Joan's engaged."

"Joan?"

"You know! Joan Fountain. You must have met her here."

"Fair girl with eyes? Who's the man?"

"Oh, rather an angel. His name's Corkran. He's got pots of money, I believe. Anyway they're engaged, and the ball is sort of in honour of it."

"Half a minute. What's this chap's Christian name?"

"Corkran? Tony. Why?"

Frank raised his brows. "Old Corks! I thought it must be. He was at school with me."

"How delightful for him!" said Miss Matthews politely.