His son Charles, less inhibited, said, “Oh Lord! I mean is it all right? I mean a cue’s an awkward thing if you aren’t used to it. I remember cutting the cloth at Pomfret Towers when I was a kid and getting told off like anything.”
Miss Sparling smiled at Charles in a way that made him slightly uneasy and said to Mrs. Belton, “Please sit down and we’ll have tea at once.” She then rang the bell and continued, “I hope you won’t feel nervous about the table, Mr. Belton. As a matter of fact a good many of our girls play at home. And Miss Holly, my secretary, whom I would like to introduce you to later, is a very good amateur.”
At this moment the door opened and tea was brought in by a stout girl of about fifteen whom Mrs. Belton at once recognized as Ellen Humble, granddaughter of her cowman
