At half-past ten o'clock Tufnell entered with a tray of glasses, and the guests partook of a little refreshment.

At eleven Miss Heredith bade her visitors a stately good-night, and they retired to their bedrooms.

The great lady of the moat-house was a firm believer in the axiom that a woman should be mistress in her own household, and she saw no reason why her guests should not adopt her way of life while under her roof.

She was a country woman born and bred, believing in the virtues of an early bed and early rising, and she was not to be put out of her decorous regular way of living by Londoners who turned night into day with theatres, late suppers, night clubs, and other pernicious forms of amusement which Miss Heredith had read about in the London papers.
Dinner at the moat-house was a solemn and ceremonious function.

In accordance with the time-honoured tradition of the family, it was served at the early hour of seven o'clock in the big dining-room, an ancient chamber panelled with oak to the ceiling, with a carved buffet, an open fireplace, Jacobean mantelpiece, and old family portraits on the walls.
There were sconces on the walls, and a crystal chandelier for wax candles was suspended from the centre of the ceiling above the table.
The chandelier was never lit, as the moat-house was illuminated by electric light, but it looked very pretty, and was the apple of Miss Heredith's eye--as the maidservants were aware, to their cost.
The dinner that night was, as usual, very simple, as befitted a patriotic English household in war-time, but the wines made up for the lack of elaborate cooking.