Lord Caterham beat a precipitate retreat without waiting for a reply.

“Too bad for Lomax,” he complained. “Letting me in for this. What’s the matter, Tredwell?”

The white-haired butler was hovering deferentially at his elbow.

“I have taken the liberty, my lord, of advancing the breakfast hour as far as you are concerned. Everything is ready in the dining-room.”

“I don’t suppose for a minute I can eat anything,” said Lord Caterham gloomily, turning his footsteps in that direction. “Not for a moment.”

Bundle slipped her hand through his arm, and they entered the dining-room together. On the sideboard were half a score of heavy silver dishes, ingeniously kept hot by patent arrangements.