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CHAPTER XII

Denis walked upstairs. As he walked, he jingled two halfcrowns in his right trouser pocket. Monday morning found him with enough change for the butler and footman. But the housemaid must go unrewarded ; unless he asked Lord Periton to change a pound note for the very obvious reason of tipping his own servants ; or even Peter. But Peter was as good as host, where the servants were concerned.
Denis paused on the top stair. " Thanks very much for looking after me," he said aloud. Or better, " Here's a little present for you," as his uncle had said, when he once gave him five shillings at Eton. Or better still, just mutter, " Oh, by the way, here's . . ." and leave it at that. He opened his bedroom door and found the room empty. He had expected to find the footman packing his suit-case or waiting about for his tip. But the room had a swept and garnished air and it seemed to question his presence. It belonged again to Lady Periton and there was no sign of his tenancy. The suit-case had vanished. The First Hundred Thousand and the other books had been put away, pending the arrival of another guest with similar tastes in literature. He realised that it was no longer his room and to remain longer was to intrude. He had the idea of leaving the five shillings on the dressing table, like Mr. Salteena in The Young Visitors. But the housemaid would almost certainly find it and keep it, if he did. He left the room and wandered downstairs. Peter was with his mother in the drawing-room. He could hear their voices and he did not want to butt in on family affairs. He mooned about in the hall, hoping that the footman would appear from the bowels of the house. But the footman seemed perversely careless of his tip. Denis opened a green baize door and looked down a flight of stairs. He