The door burst open, and Tishy came swiftly into the room.

“I’ve just heard!” she said.  “Dad got it on the other ’phone.  It’s a wicked shame and a disgrace!  That’s what it is!” Her voice was hot with wrath and sympathy; she flung across the room and caught Larry’s hand and shook it vehemently.  “The fools!” she cried, furiously.  “You were too good for them, that’s what it was!  The dirty, low, common—­Oh, there’s no words bad enough for them!” Her eyes blazed; she looked exceedingly handsome.  She was moved by a perfectly genuine emotion of indignation; Larry was Mangan property, and it was not fitting that the leading family of Cluhir should be defeated.

“You look half dead this minute!” she cried, pushing him down on to the sofa by the hand that she had taken.  “Sit down for gracious sake!”

Again the door opened, and from without the Doctor’s deep voice said: 

“Tishy!  Come here a minute, I want you.”

Larry, sitting on the sofa, watching his wet boots steaming, was conscious of a sense of consolation.  It was something to know that these kind people cared.  He heard the light chink of glasses, and looked round, and saw Tishy coming into the room, bearing a tray, on which were a cake, and wineglasses, and a bottle of champagne.

“Dad says he prescribes a little stimulant!” said Tishy, gaily, “the wire’s cut—­”

She took the cork out of the bottle with a strong, capable hand, and filled two glasses.  “Drink that at once now!  And I’ll drink one drop myself—­just for luck!  Here now!  Here’s to the next time, and you at the top of the poll!”

“Sounds as if I were a bear!” said Larry, with a pale smile at her, as he lifted the glass, “Clink!” He touched her glass, and then drank the wine thirstily.

“I was just about cooked,” he said apologetically.  “Awfully good of you and the Doctor—­”

“Ah, don’t be talking nonsense!” interrupted Tishy.  “Here, show me your glass—­”

The glasses were very large and old fashioned; she refilled his, brimmingly.  “Now, sit down, and drink that, and eat a bit of cake.  Not a word out of you now!  Only do as you’re told!”

Then, as he obeyed her, she suddenly knelt beside him, and before he realised what she was doing she began to unlace his boots.  Larry started up, horrified and protesting.

“Sit down at once and be good!” said Tishy, holding firmly to the foot on which she had begun operations, and with a vigorous jerk compelling him to obedience.  “I’ll do what I choose, I always do!”

Her nimble, white fingers made short work of the task that she had set herself; Larry’s remonstrances availed him nothing.  She had insisted on refilling his glass a third time, and the wine had begun to take away from him the feeling of reality, and to make everything seem hazy and indefinite, but quite agreeable.

“There now!” said Tishy, pushing the boots under the sofa, “aren’t you obliged to me?  I often did that for the Doctor, but I never saw such lovely green silk socks on him, I can tell you!”