Then up the terrace steps could be seen advancing Mr.Carlyon and his guest.

They had walked over from the cottage--and Halcyone, observing from the window, was conscious that against her will she was admiring John Derringham's arrogant, commanding walk.
"He could very well be as Theseus was after he grew proud," she said to herself.
And soon they were announced.
Mr.Carlyon was now on the most friendly terms with both old ladies, and as well as coming to the monthly dinner, sometimes dropped in to tea on Sunday afternoons, but he knew this was a real party and must be treated as such.
How agreeable it felt to be once more in the world, Miss Roberta thought, and her faded pale cheeks flushed a delicate pink.
John Derringham had been sulky as a bear at the idea of coming, but something in the quaintly pathetic refinement of the poor and splendid old house pleased him, and the aroma of untouched early-Victorian prudish grace which the ancient ladies threw around them appealed to his imagination, as any complete bit of art or nature always did.

He found himself seated between Miss La Sarthe and Halcyone and quite enjoying himself.

Everything was of the time from the epergne to the way the bread was cut.
Halcyone conversed with Mr.Miller, who always felt he must make nursery jokes with her and ask her the names of her dolls.
"He can't help it," she told Cheiron one day.

"If he had any more intelligence God would have put him to work in some busier place." John Derringham did not address her; he devoted himself to Miss La Sarthe.
He had absolutely no diffidence.