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Page 223

CHAPTER XVI

Soup
Fillits of Place
Roast chicken & Bread Sorce
French Beans & Roast Potatos
Trifle

He caught Joan's eye and winked. Her eyebrows were raised in understanding. He sat back gravely and waited to be served. By Jove, his mother had risen to the occasion. And so had his father. Mr. Bailey had strolled over to the sideboard, where several bottles stood ready. " Do you drink wine, Lord Ockley ?" he said casually. " Or there's ginger-beer or ginger-ale."
" Ginger-beer, please," said Peter.
Mr. Bailey opened a bottle and put it on the table. He paused with another in his hand. " Denis ?"
Should he accept, Denis wondered. He drank water as a rule at Anglersmead, but Peter might feel uncomfortable if he drank alone.
" Ginger-beer please, father," he said. Mr. Bailey laid the second bottle firmly on the table.
" I think I'll have a glass of port, Hubert," said Mrs. Bailey.
" What, now, Mary? "
" Yes ; it's good for my cold." Mr. Bailey poured out a glass and put the decanter back in the cupboard. He hesitated ; then he poured a little whisky into his own glass and filled it up with water. Like Denis, he disliked the taste of whisky, but drank it on occasions.
There were four rooms on the top floor of Anglersmead. The first two looked out across the marshes and communicated with each other by a door, which was usually locked. But to-night it was open. Peter was brushing his teeth, when Denis pushed his way in.
" Got everything you want ?" he asked. He had heard his father put the question. It was part of the ritual of hosts towards their guests. Mr. Bailey had already asked Peter if he knew the geography of the place-a phrase,

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