‘I’ve had a little talk with Panty,’ said Panty’s mother, obstinately, ‘and she promised me on her word of honour she didn’t know anything about it. I know when that child is speaking the truth, Milly. A mother always knows.’

‘Honestly, Mother!’ said Paul.

‘I don’t care what anyone says—’ Pauline began, but was interrupted by the entrance of Cedric, very smooth and elegant, and with more than a touch of smugness in his general aspect.

‘Good morning, dearest Mrs Alleyn. Good morning, my sweets,’ he said. ‘Planning how to lay out the proverbial shilling to advantage, Paul dear? I’ve been so excited thinking up a scheme for a double wedding. It’s a teeny bit involved. The Old Person, you see, in Uncle Claude’s absence, must give Fenella away and then whisk over to the other side as First Bridegroom. I thought I might be joint Best Man and Paul could double Second Bridegroom and Sonia’s papa. It’s like a rather intricate ballet. Uncle Thomas is to be a page and Panty a flower-girl, which will give her wonderful opportunities for throwing things. And you, dearest Mama, and all the aunts shall be Dowagers-in-Waiting. I’ve invented such marvellously intimidating gowns for you.’

‘Don’t be naughty,’ said Millamant.

‘No, but truly,’ Cedric went on, bringing his plate to the table. ‘I do feel, you two, that you’ve managed your affairs the least bit clumsily.’

‘It’s not given to all of us,’ said Paul dryly, ‘to be quite as nimble after the main chance as you.’

‘Well, I do rather flatter myself I’ve exhibited a pretty turn of low cunning,’ Cedric agreed readily. ‘Sonia’s going to let me do her trousseau, and the Old Person said that I at least showed some family feeling. But I’m afraid, dearest Auntie Pauline, that Panty has lost ground almost irretrievably. Such a very robust sense of comedy.’

‘I have already told your mother, Cedric, that I have reason to believe that Panty was not responsible for that incident.’

‘Oh, Gracious!’ said Cedric. ‘So touching. Such faith.’

‘Or for the writing on your grandfather’s looking-glass.’

Cedric made one of his ingratiating wriggles at Troy. ‘Panty has another champion,’ he said.

Pauline turned quickly to Troy, who, with a sense of stepping from the stalls up to the stage, murmured: ‘I didn’t think Panty wrote on the glass. I thought her protests rang true.’

‘There!’ cried Pauline emotionally, and stretched out her hand to Troy. ‘There, all of you! Thank you, Mrs Alleyn. Someone has faith in my poor old Panty.’

But Troy’s faith in Panty Kentish, already slightly undermined, was to suffer a further jolt.