"Do," said Rose, on Briggs's turning inquiringly to her.
"How kind of you all," he said, his face broad with smiles. "I'd love to be a guest here. What a new sensation. And with three such--"
He broke off and looked round. "I say," he asked, "oughtn't I to have a fourth hostess? Francesca said she had four mistresses."
"Yes. There's Lady Caroline," said Lotty.
"Then hadn't we better find out first if she invites me too?"
"Oh, but she's sure--" began Lotty.
"The daughter of the Droitwiches, Briggs," said Mr. Wilkins, "is not likely to be wanting in the proper hospitable impulses."
"The daughter of the--" repeated Briggs; but he stopped dead, for there in the doorway was the daughter of the Droitwiches herself; or rather, coming towards him out of the dark doorway into the brightness of the sunset, was that which he had not in his life yet seen but only dreamed of, his ideal of absolute loveliness.