Sixteen BOBBY BECOMES A SOLICITOR¹
“Mr. Hawkins?”
“Yes,” said Bobby, his voice slightly muffled² owing to a large mouthful ofbacon and eggs.
“You’re wanted on the telephone.”
Bobby took a hasty gulp³ of coffee, wiped his mouth and rose. The tele-phone was in a small dark passage. He took up the receiver.
“Hullo,” said Frankie’s voice.
“Hullo, Frankie,” said Bobby incautiously.
“This is Lady Frances Derwent speaking,” said the voice coldly. “Is thatHawkins?”
“Yes, m’lady.”
“I shall want the car at ten o’clock to take me up to London.”
“Very good, your ladyship.”
Bobby replaced the receiver.
“When does one say, ‘my lady,’ and when does one say, ‘your ladyship?’
“ he cogitated⁴. “I ought to know, but I don’t. It’s the sort of thing that willlead a real chauffeur⁵ or butler to catch me out.”
At the other end, Frankie hung up the receiver and turned to RogerBassington-ffrench.
“It’s a nuisance,” she observed lightly, “to have to go up to Londontoday. All owing to Father’s fuss.”
“Still,” said Roger, “you’ll be back this evening?”
“Oh, yes!”
“I’d half thought of asking you if you’d give me a lift to town,” said Rogercarelessly.
Frankie paused for an infinitesimal second before her answer—givenwith an apparent readiness.
“Why, of course,” she said.
“But on second thoughts I don’t think I will go up today,” went on Roger.
“Henry’s looking even odder than usual. Somehow I don’t very much likeleaving Sylvia alone with him.”
“I know,” said Frankie.
“Are you driving yourself?” asked Roger casually⁶ as they moved awayfrom the telephone.
“Yes, but I shall take Hawkins. I’ve got some shopping to do as well andit’s a nuisance if you’re driving yourself — you can’t leave the car any-where.”

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