"'Oo are you?"

To avoid any unpleasantness I replaced my receiver.

Two minutes later, after an agreeable conversation with "Supervisor," I arranged to purchase five tickets for the Gold and Silver Ball.

* * * * *

"This," said the salesman, spreading a rug upon the top of a fast-growing pile, "is a Shiraz."

"I suppose," said Berry, "you haven't got a Badgerabahd?"

"I never came across one, sir."

"They are rare," was the airy reply. "The best ones used to be made in Germany and sent to Egypt. By the tune the camels had finished with them, they'd fetch anything from a millionaire to a foxhound."

This was too much for Jill's gravity, and it was only with an effort that Daphne controlled her voice.

"I think that's very nice," she said shakily. "Don't you?" she added, turning to me.

"Beautiful piece of work," I agreed. "Some of it appears to have been done after dinner, but otherwise...."

"The pattern is invariably a little irregular, sir."

"Yes," said Berry. "That's what makes them so valuable. Their lives are reflected in their rugs. Every mat is a human document." With the ferrule of his umbrella he indicated a soft blue line that was straying casually from the course which its fellows had taken. "That, for instance, is where Ethel the Unready demanded a latchkey at the mature age of sixty-two. And here we see Uncle Sennacherib fined two measures of oil for being speechless before mid-day. I don't think we'd better give her this one," he added. "She-bat the Satyr seems to have got going about the middle, and from what I remember——"

"Haven't you got to go and get some socks?" said Daphne desperately.

"I have. Will you meet me for lunch, or shall I meet you? I believe they do you very well at the Zoo."

The salesman retired precipitately into an office, and my sister besought me tearfully to take her husband away.

"I might have known," she said in a choking voice. "I was a fool to bring him."

"Let's play at bears," said her husband. "It's a priceless game. Every one gets under a different rug and growls."

Resignedly Daphne retired to the sofa. Jill sank down upon the pile of rugs and shook silently. Observing that we were unattended, another salesman was hurrying in our direction. Before he could launch the inevitable question—

"I want a dog licence and some magic lanterns," said Berry. "You know. The ones that get all hot and smell."

There was a shriek of laughter from Jill, and the unfortunate assistant looked round wildly, as if for support.

Clearly something had to be done.

I stepped forward and slid my arm through that of the delinquent.

"Enough," said I. "Come and devil the hosier. If you're not quick all the socks will be gone."

My brother-in-law eyed me suspiciously.

"And leave my baggage?" he demanded, pointing to Daphne. "Never. This is a ruse. Where is the manager of the emporium? I dreamed about him last night. He had brown boots on."

I consulted my watch before replying.

"By the time we get to the Club, Martinis will be in season."

"Do you mean that?" said Berry.

"I do."

"And a small but pungent cigar?"

I nodded.

He turned to the bewildered salesman.

"Please attend to these ladies. They want to choose an expensive-looking rug. Preferably a Shiraz. No doubt they will be safe in your hands. Good morning."

On the way out he stopped at a counter and purchased one of the prettiest bead bags I have ever seen. He ordered it to be sent to Daphne.

* * * * *

The omnibus was sailing down Oxford Street at a good round pace, but it was the sudden draught from a side street that twitched my hat from my head. I turned to see the former describe a somewhat elegant curve and make a beautiful landing upon the canopy of a large limousine which was standing by the kerb some seventy yards away. By the time I had alighted, that distance was substantially increased. In some dudgeon I proceeded to walk, with such remnants of dignity as I could collect and retain, in tie direction of my lost property. Wisdom suggested that I should run; but I felt that the spectacle of a young man, hatless but otherwise decently dressed and adequately protected from the severity of the weather, needed but the suggestion of impatience to make it wholly ridiculous. My vanity was rightly served. I was still about thirty paces from my objective, when the limousine drew out from the pavement and into the stream of traffic which was hurrying east.

As my lips framed a particularly unpleasant expletive a bell rang sharply, and I turned to see a taxi, which had that moment been dismissed.

"Oxford Circus," I cried, flinging open the door.

A moment later we were near enough for me to indicate the large limousine and to instruct my driver to follow her.

As we swept into Regent's Park, I began to wonder whether I should not have been wiser to drive to Bond Street and buy a new hat. By the time we had been twice round the Ring I had no longer any doubt on this point; but my blood was up, and I was determined to run my quarry to earth, even if it involved a journey to Hither Green.

More than once we were almost out-distanced, three times we were caught in a block of traffic, so that my taxi's bonnet was nosing the limousine's tank. Once I got out, but, as I stepped into the road, the waiting stream was released, and the car slid away and round the hull of a 'bus from under my very hand. My escape from a disfiguring death beneath the wheels of a lorry was so narrow that I refrained from a second attempt to curtail my pursuit, and resigned myself to playing a waiting game.

When we emerged from the Park, my spirits rose and I fell to studying what I could see of the lines of the limousine, and to speculating whether I was being led to Claridge's or the Ritz. I had just pronounced In favour of the latter, when there fell upon my ears the long regular spasm of ringing which is a fire-engine's peremptory demand for instant way. Mechanically the order was everywhere obeyed. The street was none too wide, and a second and louder burst of resonance declared that the fire-engine was hard upon our heels.

The twenty yards separating us from the limousine were my undoing. With a helpless glance at me over his shoulder, my driver pulled in to the kerb, and we had the felicity of watching the great blue car turn down a convenient side street and flash out of sight.

The engine swept by at a high smooth speed, the traffic emerged from its state of suspended animation, and in some annoyance I put my head out of the window and directed my driver to drive to Bond Street.

I had chosen a new hat and was on the point of leaving the shop, when a chauffeur entered with a soft grey hat in his hand. The hat resembled the one I had Lost, and for a moment I hesitated. Then it occurred to me that there were many such hats in London, and I passed on and out of the door. Of course it was only a coincidence. Still....

Opposite me, drawn up by the kerb, was the large blue limousine.

The next moment I was back in the shop.

"I rather think that's my hat," I said.

The chauffeur looked round.

"Is it, sir? 'Er ladyship see it on top o' the canopy Just as I put 'er down at the Berkeley. 'Wilkins,' she says, 'there's a 'at on the car.' 'A 'at, me lady?' says I. 'A 'at,' says she. 'Fetch it down.' I fetches it down and shows it 'er. 'An' a nice noo 'at, too,' she says, 'wot must have blowed orf of a gent's 'ead, an' 'e on top of a 'bus, as like as not.' Then she looks inside and see the initials and the name o' the shop. 'Take it back where it come from,' she says. 'They'll know oose it is.' 'Very good, me lady,' said I, an' come straight down, sir."

I took off the hat I was wearing and bade him read the initials which had just been placed there. He did so reluctantly. Then—

"Very glad to 'ave found you so quick, sir. Shall I tell them to send it along? You won't want to carry it."

"I'll see to that," said I, taking it out of his hand. "Why didn't it blow off your canopy?"

"The spare cover was 'oldin' it, sir. Must 'ave shifted on to the brim as soon as it come there. I don't know 'ow long——"

"Best part of an hour," I said shortly, giving him a two-shilling piece. "Good day, and thanks very much."

He touched his cap and withdrew.

A wrestle with mental arithmetic showed me that the draught which I had encountered nearly an hour before had cost me exactly one and a half guineas.

Ordinarily I should have dismissed the matter from my mind, but for some reason I had no sooner let the chauffeur go than I was tormented by a persistent curiosity regarding the identity of his considerate mistress. If I had not promised to rejoin Berry for lunch—a meal for which I was already half an hour late—I should have gone to the Berkeley and scrutinized the guests. The reflection that such a proceeding must only have been unprofitable consoled me not at all, so contrary a maid is Speculation. For the next two hours Vexation rode me on the curb. I quarrelled with Berry, I was annoyed with myself, and when the hall-porter at the Club casually observed that there was "a nasty wind," I agreed with such hearty and unexpected bitterness that he started violently and dropped the pile of letters which he was searching on my behalf.

A visit to Lincoln's Inn Fields, however, with regard to an estate of which I was a trustee, followed by a sharp walk in the Park, did much to reduce the ridiculous fever of which my folly lay sick, and I returned home in a frame of mind almost as comfortable as that in which I had set out.

It was half-past four, but no one of the others was in, so I ordered tea to be brought to the library, and settled down to the composition of a letter to The Observer.

I was in the act of recasting my second sentence, when the light went out.

By the glow of the fire I made my way to the door A glance showed me that the hall and the staircase were In darkness. It was evident that a fuse had come to a violent end.

I closed the door and returned to my seat. Then I reached for the telephone and put the receiver to my ear.

"What an extraordinary thing!" said a voice. "And you've no idea whose it was?"

"Not the slightest," came the reply. There was a musical note in the girlish tone that would have attracted any one. "There it was, on the top of the car, when we got to the Berkeley. It wasn't such a bad hat, either."

"Excuse me," said I. "It was a jolly good hat."

A long tense silence followed my interruption. At length—

"I say, are you there, Dot?"

"Yes," came the reply in an excited whisper. "Who was that speaking?"

"I've not the faintest idea," rejoined the first voice I had heard. "Somebody must have got on to our line. I expect——"

A familiar explosion severed the sentence with the clean efficiency of the guillotine.

"Isn't that sickening?" said I. "Now we shall never know what her theory was."

"It's all your fault, whoever you are. If you hadn't butted in——"

"I don't know what you mean," I retorted. "I was ushered into your presence, so to speak, by la force majeure. French. Very difficult."

"Well, when you heard us talking, you ought to have got off the line."

"I should have, if you hadn't started disparaging my headgear. I repeat, it was a hat of unusual elegance. It had a personality of its own."

"But it wasn't your hat we were discussing."

I sighed.

"All right," I said wearily. "It wasn't. Have it your own way. Some other fool followed a silver-grey Homburg twice round the Park this morning. Some other fool——"

A little gasp interrupted me.

"But how did you know my number?"

"I didn't. I don't. I never could have been about to should. Negatives all the way. It's just chance, my dear. Chance with a Capital J—I mean C. D'you mind if I smoke?"

Her reply was preceded by a refreshing gurgle.

"Not at all," said my lady. "D'you mean to say you chased us all that way?"

"Further. And if it hadn't been for that fire-engine——"

"I remember. Wilkins turned down a side-street."

"Exactly."

"What a shame. Well, if you go to your hatter's you'll get it again."

"Your ingenuity is only equalled by your consideration. Isn't that neatly put? You see, I'm writing a letter to The Observer, and, when I get going, I can just say things like that one after another."

"How wonderful. But I'm afraid I'm interrupting you, and I shouldn't like to deprive Humanity——"

"Your name," said I, "is Dot. But I shall call you Mockery. And if you're half as sweet as you sound——"

"Good-bye."

I protested earnestly.

"Please don't say that. We've only just met. Besides ... why was Clapham Common?"

"Clapham what?"

"No, Common. Why was Clapham Common?"

"Well, why was it?"

"I can't think, my dear. I thought you might know. It's worried me for years."

There was a choking sound, which suggested indignation struggling with laughter. Then—

"I've a good mind to ring off right away," said Dot in a shaking voice.

"That would be cruel. Think of the dance you led me this morning. More. Think of the dances you're going to give me on Wednesday week."

"Oh, you're going, are you?"

"If you are."

"What as?" she demanded.

"A billiard-marker in the time of Henry the Fourth. And you?"

"I can't rise to that. I'm going as myself in a silver frock."

"Could anything be sweeter? A little silver Dot. I shall cancel the body-snatcher—I mean billiard-marker—and go as Carry One. Then we can dance together all the evening. By the way, in case I don't hear your voice, how shall I know you?"

"A dot," said my lady, "is that which hath position, but no magnitude."

"Possibly," said I. "It hath also a dear voice, which, though it be produced indefinitely, will never tire. All the same, in view of the capacity of the Albert Hall, you've not given me much to go on."

"As a matter of fact, each of us is going as a parallel line. And that's why I can tell you that I like the sound of you, and—oh, well, enough said."

"Thank you, Dot. And why parallel lines?"

"They never meet. So long."

There was a faint chunk.

My lady had rung off.

Heavily I hung up my receiver.

When the others came in, I was still sitting in the dark at the table, thinking....

* * * * *

The bitter wind reigned over London for seven long days, meting untempered chastisement to its reluctant subjects, and dying unwept and gasping on a Monday night. Tuesday was fair, still by comparison and indeed. The sun shone and the sky was blue, and the smoke rose straight out of its chimneys with never the breath of a breeze to bend it, or even to set its columns swaying over the high roofs. There was a great calm. But, with it all, the weather was terribly cold.

That rare beauty which Dusk may bring to the Metropolis was that evening vouchsafed. Streets that were mean put off their squalor, ways that were handsome became superb. Grime went unnoticed, ugliness fell away. All things crude or staring became indistinct, veiled with a web of that soft quality which only Atmosphere can spin and, having spun, hang about buildings of a windless eve.

As Night drew on, Magic came stealing down the blurred highways. Lamps became lanterns, shedding a muffled light, deepening and charging with mystery the darkness beyond. Old friends grew unfamiliar. Where they had stood, fantastic shapes loomed out of the mist and topless towers rose up spectral to baffle memory. Perspective fled, shadow and stuff were one, and, save where the radiance of the shops in some proud thoroughfare made gaudy noon of evening, the streets of Town were changed to echoing halls and long, dim, rambling galleries, hung all with twinkling lights that stabbed the gloom but deep enough to show their presence, as do the stars.

So, slowly and with a dazzling smile, London put on her cloak of darkness. By eight o'clock you could not see two paces ahead.

On Wednesday morning the fog was denser than it had been the night before. There was no sign of its abatement, not a puff of wind elbowed its way through the yellow drift, and the cold was intense. The prospect of leaving a comfortable home at nine in the evening to undertake a journey of some two miles, clad in habiliments which, while highly ornamental, were about as protective from cold as a grape-skin rug, was anything but alluring.

For reasons of my own, however, I was determined to get to the Ball. My sister, whom nothing daunted, and Jill, who was wild with excitement, and had promised readily to reserve more dances than could possibly be rendered, were equally firm. Jonah thought it a fool's game, and said as much. Berry was of the same opinion, but expressed it less bluntly, and much more offensively. After a long tirade—

"All right," he concluded. "You go. It's Lombard Street to a china orange you'll never get there, and, if you do, you'll never get back. None of the band'll turn up, and if you find twenty other fools in the building to exchange colds with, you'll be lucky. To leave your home on a night like this is fairly clamouring for the special brand of trouble they keep for paralytic idiots. I've known you all too long to expect sagacity, but the instinct of self-preservation characterizes even the lower animals. What swine, for instance, would leave its cosy sty——"

"How dare you?" said Daphne. "Besides, you can't say 'its.' Swine's plural."

"My reference was to the fever-swine," was the cold reply. "A singular species. Comparable only with the deep-sea dip-sheep."

"I think you're very unkind," said Jill, pouting. "Boy can walk in front with a lamp, and Jonah can walk behind with a lamp——"

"And I can walk on both sides, I suppose, with a brazier in either hand. Oh, this is too easy."

"We can but try," said I.

"You can but close your ugly head," said Berry. "If you want to walk about London half the night, looking like a demobilised pantaloon, push off and do it. But don't try and rope in innocent parties."

To this insult I made an appropriate reply, and the argument waxed. At length——

"There's no reason," said Jonah, "why we shouldn't go on like this for ever. If we had any sense, we should send for Fitch and desire his opinion. It's rather more valuable than any one of ours, and, after all, he's more or less interested. And you can trust him."

Now, Fitch was our chauffeur.

Amid a chorus of approval, I went to the telephone to speak to the garage.

I was still waiting to be connected, when—

"Is that the Club?" said a voice.

"No," said I. "Nothing like it."

"Well, there's a bag of mine in the hall, and——"

"No, there isn't," said I.

"What d'you mean?" was the indignant retort.

"What I say. Our hall is bagless."

"I say," said the voice with laboured clarity, "I say there is a bag in the hall. A BAG. Hang it all, you know what a bag is?"

"Rather," said I heartily. "What you put nuts in. An uncle of mine had one."

The vehemence with which the unknown subscriber replaced his receiver was terrible to hear.

Ten minutes later Fitch entered the room.

"Can you get to the Albert Hall to-night, Fitch?" said Daphne.

"I think so, madam. If we go slow."

"Can you get back from the Albert Hall to-morrow afternoon?" said Berry.

"If I can get there, sir, I can get back."

"How long will it take?"

"I ought to do it in 'alf an hour, sir. I can push along in the Park, where it's all straight going. It's getting along the streets as'll take the time. It's not that I won't find me way, but it's the watchin' out for the hother vehicles, so as they don't run into you."

"Bit of an optimist, aren't you?"

"I don't think so, sir."

"Thank you, Fitch," said Daphne hastily. "Half-past nine, please."

"Very good, madam."

He bowed and withdrew.

Triumphantly my sister regarded her husband.

"At making a mountain out of a molehill," she said, "no one can touch you."

Berry returned her gaze with a malevolent stare. Then he put a thumb to his nose and extended his fingers in her direction.

* * * * *

The unfortunate incident occurred in the vicinity of Stanhope Gate.

So far we had come very slowly, but without incident, and, in spite of the fact that we were insufficiently clad, we were nice and warm. For this, so far as Berry and I were concerned, two footwarmers and a pair of rugs were largely responsible, for the elaborate nature of our costumes put the wearing of overcoats out of the question. A high-collared Italian cloak of the shape that was seen in the time of Elizabeth made it impossible for me to wear a surtout of any description, and I was reduced to wrapping a muffler about my neck and holding a woollen shawl across my chest, while Berry, in that puffed and swollen array, which instantly remembers Henry the Eighth, derived what comfort he could from an enormous cloak of Irish frieze which, while it left his chest uncovered, succeeded in giving him a back about four feet square.

Hitherto we had encountered little or no traffic, and an excellent judgment, coupled with something akin to instinct, on the part of Fitch had brought us surely along the streets; but here, almost before we knew it, there were vehicles in front and on either side. Hoarse directions were being shouted, lanterns were being waved, engines were running, and a few feet away frantic endeavours were being made to persuade a pair of horses to disregard twin headlights whose brilliancy was adding to the confusion. Berry lowered the window.

"What about it, Fitch?"

"Well, sir, I'm just opposite the gate, but it's rather awkward to slip across, in case I meet somethin'. If I 'as to pull up 'alf-way, we might be run into."

"Which means that one of us must guide you over?"

"It'd be safer, sir."

By a majority of three it was decided that Berry should enact the role of conducting officer. Jonah had a cold, and was sitting on the back seat between the girls. I had no coat, and required the services of both hands if I was to hold my shawl in position. Only my brother-in-law remained. He did not go down without a struggle, but after a vigorous but vain appeal "to our better natures," he compared himself to a lion beset by jackals, commented bitterly upon "the hot air which is breathed about self-sacrifice," and, directing that after death his veins should be opened in the presence of not less than twelve surgeons, as a preliminary to his interment in the Dogs' Cemetery, opened the door and stepped sideways into the roadway.

His efforts to remove the offside oil lamp, which was hot to the touch, were most diverting, and twice he returned to the window to ask us to make less noise. At last, however, with the assistance of Fitch, the lamp was unhooked, and a moment later our absurd link-boy advanced cautiously in the direction of the gate.

Fitch let in the clutch.

We must have been half-way across, when a lamp of extraordinary power came gliding up on the near side, confusing all eyes and altogether effacing our guiding light.

Fitch applied his brakes and cried out a warning. Instantly the lamp stopped, but its glare was blinding and our chauffeur was clearly afraid to move.

In a flash I was out of the car and holding my shawl over the face of the offender. At once Fitch took the car forward. As I fell in behind, I heard Berry's voice.

"Thank you. I hope I didn't jostle your 'bus. Yes, I am completely and utterly lost. No, I don't mind at all. I'm going to bale out the drinking-trough and sleep there. And in the morning they'll take me to the Foundling Hospital. Hullo. That's done it. Blind me first and then run me down. What are you? A travelling lighthouse or an air-raid? Want to get to Cannon Street? Well, I should go round by sea, if I were you.... Well, if you must know, I'm Mary Pickford about to be trodden to death in Maelstrom or Safety Last. You know, you're not racing your engine enough. I can still hear myself think...."

His voice grew fainter and stopped.

Vigorously I shouted his name. A cold draught, and we swept into the Park. Fitch pulled up on the left-hand side.

"Berry, Berry!" I shouted.

In the distance I could hear voices, but no one answered me....

In response to my sister's exhortations I re-entered the car, and drew a rug over my shivering limbs. The others put their heads out of the windows and shouted for Berry in unison. There was no reply.

For a quarter of an hour we shouted at intervals. Then Jonah took the other lamp and returned to the gate. He did not reappear for ten minutes, and we were beginning to give him up, when to our relief he opened the door.

"No good," he said curtly. "We'd better get on. He's probably gone home."

"I suppose he's all right," said Daphne, in some uneasiness.

"You can't come to any harm on foot," said I. "Everything's going dead slow for its own sake. And when I last heard him, he was having the time of his life. Incidentally, as like as not, he'll strike a car that's going to the Ball and ask for a lift."

"I expect he will," said Jill. "There must be any amount on the way."

"All right," said my sister. "Tell Fitch to carry on."

Twenty minutes later that good helmsman set us down at the main entrance to the Albert Hall.

* * * * *

The conditions prevailing within that edifice suggested that few, if any, ticket-holders had been deterred from attending by the conditions prevailing without. The boxes were full, the floor was packed, the corridors were thronged with eager shining revellers, dancing and strolling and chattering to beat the band, which was flooding every corner of the enormous building with an air of gaiety so infectious that even the staid Jonah began to grumble that the dance would be over before the girls emerged from the cloakroom.

The Field of the Cloth of Gold cannot have presented a more splendid spectacle. True, there was nothing of the pageant about the function, neither were Pomp and Chivalry among the guests. But Grace was there, and Ease and Artlessness, lending the scene that warmth and life and verity which Form and Ceremony do not allow.

The utter hopelessness of encountering my lady of the limousine was so apparent that I relegated a ridiculous notion which I had been harbouring to the region of things impossible, and determined to think about it no more. For all that, I occasionally found myself scanning the crowd of strangers and wondering whether there was one amongst them whose voice I knew. It was during one of these lapses that I heard my name.

"Who have you lost?" asked Maisie Dukedom, all radiant as a gold shepherdess.

"Dance with me," said I, "and I'll tell you."

She glanced at a tiny wrist-watch.

"I promised I wouldn't stay more than an hour," she said, "and I ought to be going. But I want to thank you for that beautiful rug. If I give you the next, will you get the car for me as soon as it's over?"

"If you must go."

She nodded, and we pushed off into the rapids.

"And now, who is it?" she demanded.

"I thought you were going to thank me for the rug."

She made a little grimace of impatience.

"The best way I can thank you is to tell you the truth. Jack and I went to buy a rug at Lucifer's."

"That's where we got yours."

She pinched my arm.

"Will you listen? We must have got to the shop directly you'd left. The one you'd bought was still lying there. We both thought it feet above any other rug there, and, when they said it was sold, I nearly cried. We were so fed up that we said we wouldn't get a rug at all, and went off to look at book-cases and chests of drawers. I didn't get home till six, and, when I did, there was your present. Are you satisfied?"

"Overwhelmed."

"Good. Now, who's the lady?"

"That's just what I can't tell you. I know her voice, but not her countenance. Her name is Dot—Lady Dot. She drives in a blue limousine and she's here to-night."

Maisie assumed a serious air.

"This," she said, "is terrible. Does your life depend upon finding her? I mean ... it's worse than a needle in a bundle of hay, isn't it?"

"Infinitely."

"You can wash out the limousine, because you won't see it. And the voice, because you won't hear it. And her name, because she won't be labelled. There's really nothing left, is there?"

Gloomily I assented.

"I'm sorry," said Maisie. "I'd like to have helped." The music slowed up and died. "And now will you see me off?"

We made our way towards the exit.

I had found her footman and sent him to summon the car, and was standing within the main entrance, when a familiar figure began with difficulty to emerge from a car which had just arrived. Berry. Having succeeded in projecting himself on to the steps, he turned to hand his companion out of the car, as he did so presenting to the astonished doorkeepers a back of such startling dimensions that the one nearest to me recoiled, for all his seasoning.

I was wondering who was the muffled Samaritan that had brought him along, when the chauffeur leaned forward as if to receive instructions when to return. The light of the near-side lamp showed me the genial features of that communicative fellow who had restored my grey hat some nine days before.

Tall and slight, his mistress turned to the doorway, and I saw a well-shaped head, couped at the throat by the white of an ermine stole. Dark hair swept low over her forehead, an attractive smile sat on her pretty mouth, and there was a fine colour springing in her cheeks.

She looked up to see me staring.

For a moment a pair of grey eyes met mine steadily. Then—

"Is the car here?" said Maisie over my shoulder. "Hullo, Berry." Suddenly she saw his companion. "Betty, my dear, I thought you were in Scotland."

Under pretence of arranging her wrap, I breathed Into her ear—

"Introduce me."

She did so without a tremor.

"And give him the next dance for me," she added. "I've just cut one of his, and he's been most forgiving."

"Too late," said Berry. "I have not wasted the shining thirty minutes which I have just spent in Lady Elizabeth's luxurious car. She knows him for the craven that he is."

"I must judge for myself," said my lady, turning to me with a smile. "He's given you a terrible——"

The sentence was never finished, for Berry turned to look at somebody, and Maisie noticed his back for the first time. Her involuntary cry was succeeded by a peal of laughter which attracted the attention of every one within earshot, and in a moment my brother-in-law found himself the object of much interested amusement, which the majority of onlookers made no attempt to conceal.

My lady fled to her cloakroom. Hastily I escorted Maisie, still helpless with laughter, to her car.

I returned to find Berry entertaining a large audience of complete strangers in the vestibule with a fantastic account of his experiences at Stanhope Gate. Concealing myself behind a pillar, I awaited Lady Elizabeth's return.

"Yes," said Berry. "Betrayed by my accomplices, I found myself, as it were, a shred of flotsam adrift in the darkling streets. Several people thought I was the Marble Arch, and left me on the left. Others, more discerning, conjured me to pull in to the kerb. Removing from my north instep the hoof which, upon examination, I found to be attached to a large mammal, I started to wade south-west and by south, hoping against hope and steering by the Milky Way. Happily I had my ration-card, and I derived great comfort from its pregnant directions, which I read from time to time by the smell of the red-hot lamp which I was bearing...."

Here my lady appeared, and I led her into the corridor and on to the floor.

As she had promised, she was wearing a silver frock. One white shoulder was left bare, and a heavy fringe, that swayed evenly with her every movement, made the sum line of her dress still more graceful. Silvery stockings covered her gleaming ankles, and she was shod with silver shoes.

For a little we spoke of Berry, and she told me how he had boarded her car and respectfully begged her compassion. Then I spoke of the bitter wind which had blown us about so inconsiderately, before the fog had come to lay upon us stripes of another kind.

"I lost my hat one day," I added casually.

At that she jumped in my arms as if I had stabbed her, but I took no notice, and we danced on.

Deliberately I recounted my loss and my pursuit, only omitting my encounter with her chauffeur.

"I happen to know," I concluded, "that the lady of the limousine is here to-night. Before the ball is over I shall have danced with her."

"But you've never seen her," she protested.

"I know her voice."

She laughed musically.

"Aren't you a bit of an optimist?" she queried.

"I don't think so. And she's just sweet."

"But if you don't know her name, how can you hope——"

"Her name," I said, "is Dot."

The hand upon my shoulder shook slightly.

We danced on.

At length—

"That's not very much to go on," said Elizabeth.

I sighed.

"Don't discourage me," I said. "When I find her, d'you think she'll give me the seven dances she said she would?"

"O-o-oh, I never...." She choked and began to cough violently, so that I drew her out of the press and into a vacant corner. "I never heard of such a thing," she continued ingeniously.

"You wicked girl," said I. "Why was Clapham Common?"

For a moment she looked at me speechless. Then she began to laugh tremulously....

With a crash the jazz came to an end. Almost immediately another orchestra took up the running, and the strains of a valse rose up, plaintive and tempting.

I looked at my lady.

"Have I earned my dances, Dot?"

She hesitated. Then—

"Carry on, Carry One," she said.



CHAPTER IV

HOW NOBBY CAME TO SLEEP UPON MY BED, AND BERRY FELL AMONG THIEVES.

Thoughtfully I read the letter again.

... It nearly breaks my heart to say so, but I've got to part with Nobby. I'm going to India to join Richard, you know, and I'm sailing next week. I think you'd get on together. He's a one-man dog and a bit queer-tempered with strangers—all Sealyhams are. But he's a good little chap—very sporting, very healthy, and a real beauty. Let me know one way or the other, and, if you'd like to have him, I'll send him round with his licence and pedigree.

Yours very sincerely,

JOSEPHINE CHILDE.

P.S.—He's always slept on my bed.

The letter had been forwarded to me from London, for I was spending the week-end in Leicestershire with the Scarlets.

I looked across the flagged hall to my host, who was leaning against a table with a hunting horn in each hand, listening critically to the noise he was making, and endeavouring to decide upon which of the two instruments he could wind the most inspiring call.

"Live and let live," said I. With a grin Bertram suspended his operations. "Listen. I've been offered a Sealyham."

"Take him," was the reply. "Your guests will regret it, but you won't. They're high-spirited and they're always full of beans. Hard as nails, too," he added. "You'll never kill him. Tell me." He brandished the horn which he held in his right hand. "Don't you think this sounds the best?" With an effort he produced a most distressing sound. "Or this?" Putting the other to his lips, he emitted a precisely similar note.

"There's no difference at all," said I, crossing to a bureau. "They're equally painful. They do it rather better at level-crossings on the Continent."

"It is patent," said Bertram, "that you have no ear for music."

"All right," said I, making ready to write. "You try it. The hounds'll all sit up and beg or something. I suppose it's too much to expect to find a pen that'll write here," I added, regarding uneasily the enormous quill with which the bureau was decorated.

"That's a jolly good pen," said Bertram indignantly. "Every one says so."

I grunted my disbelief.

"Which end shall I use?"

"I recommend the right one," rejoined my host with ponderous sarcasm. "But, as I have yet to meet any one who can read your writing, I don't suppose it matters."

"I have often deplored the company you keep," said I, and with that I selected a large sheet of paper and wrote as follows—

DEAR MISS CHILDE,

I'd like to have Nobby very much. I'm awfully sorry for you, but I'll be very kind to him for both your sakes. The reference you give him is most satisfactory. I suppose he'll want one evening a week and every other Sunday. And will he do in the front steps and spoil the knives? Or only ruin the boots? I beg your pardon. For the moment I was thinking of the cook who nearly engaged us. Only she wanted a pension after six months' service. It was very nice of you to think of me. I'll write you a proper letter when I send you a receipt. I return to Town to-morrow.

Yours very sincerely,

....

P.S.—He shall always sleep on mine.

As I was addressing the envelope, the butler entered the hall. I gave him the letter, and he promised to see that it was dispatched that day. A knowledge of Bertram's household suggested this precaution.

* * * * *

As I had told Miss Childe, on the following day I returned to Town. It was the last Monday but one before Christmas, and Jonah's birthday. To do the latter honour, we were to dine all together at Claridge's and go on to an entertainment, presented in a house in which smoking was permitted, and of such a nature that you gained rather than lost by arriving late.

I reached home with sufficient time only to bathe and dress, and it was not until we were half-way through dinner that I learned that my letter to Miss Childe had borne immediate fruit.

"By the way," said Daphne suddenly; "did the servants give you that message from Josephine Childe?" I shook my head. "It was down on the telephone block, but I suppose you were too hurried to look at that. 'Miss Childe's compliments, and Nobby will be round this evening.'" Hardly I suppressed an exclamation. "We're all mad to know what it means. Berry scents an intrigue and says it's a cipher."

"Worse," said I. "It's a dog."

"A dog?" cried Daphne and Jill together.

"A dog. You know. A small quadruped. Something like a cat, only with hair."

"I know," said Berry excitedly. "I know. I've seen pictures of them."

"Fools. Both of you," said my sister. "What's she giving you a dog for?"

I explained the nature of the transaction.

"I have every reason to believe," I concluded, "that he will become one of us."

The others exchanged meaning looks.

"Is he any particular breed?" said Berry. "Or just a pot-pourri?"

I braced myself with a draught of champagne before replying. Then—

"He's a Sealyham," I said.

Uprose a damnatory chorus.

"I do hereby protest," said Berry. "A barbarous breed, notorious for its unprovoked ferocity. Peaceable possession of our tenement will be unknown. Ingress and egress will be denied us. Substantial compensation will be an everyday affair. Any more for the Pasteur Institute?"

"Rot," said I. "You're jealous."

"They've awfully uncertain tempers," said Daphne. "Maisie Dukedom had one, and it went down and bit a new cook, who'd just come, before she'd got her things off. They had to give her five pounds, put her up at an hotel for the night, and pay her fare back to Bristol. And she had wonderful references."

"Instinct," said I. "The dog saw through her. They ought to have been grateful."

"Truth is," said Jonah, "they're a bit too sporting for London."

"Look here," said I, consulting my watch. "At the present moment the poor little dog is probably fretting his soul out in the servants' hall. So we'll have to keep him to-night. If he's the ravening beast you say he is, he shall be fired to-morrow. If not, I shall stick to him. That's fair enough, isn't it?"

"He's going to be a darling," said Jill. "I'm sure of it."

Before we left for the theatre, I telephoned home and spoke to the butler.

"Is that you, Falcon?"

"It is, sir."

"Any dogs come for me?"

"Only one, sir."

"Is he all right?"

"Seems a little unsettled, sir, and—er—suspicious. He was rather short with Fitch sir, when he come in, but he had his leggin's on, sir, so there's no 'arm done. He's all right with me, sir."

I thought of the Dukedoms' cook and moistened my lips.

"See that he has a run on the lead before you go to bed," I said as nonchalantly as possible, "and then put him upstairs on my bed."

"Very good, sir."

I returned to the lounge.

"Has the little bit of Heaven arrived?" said Berry

I nodded.

"Casualties?"

"Nil," said I. "Everything in the garden is lovely."

"No doubt," said Berry. "And the servants' hall? I suppose that's a shambles."

"Don't be silly," said I. "He's as good as gold."

"There you are," said Jill staunchly.

"Cupboard love," said Berry. "You wait till we come in. I shouldn't be surprised if he concentrated on me. They always aim high. It will be your duty," he added, turning to Daphne, "to suck the wound. That is a wife's privilege."

"The best thing," said Jonah, "is to hold a cigarette-end to the place."

"I beg your pardon," said Berry.

"Well, an iron takes such a time to heat."

In a voice shaken with emotion my brother-in-law stated that he should regard any such treatment as a treacherous and aggravated assault upon his person.

"Don't let there be any mistake about it," he concluded. "I'm not going to have any amateur life-savers burning holes in my body in the hope of being recommended by the Coroner's Jury. If I've got to die, I'll just go mad in the ordinary way, thank you. I wonder who I shall bite first," he added pleasantly.

"Don't you worry," said I. "Think what hydrophobia means."

"What does it mean?"—suspiciously.

"A horror of water," said I. "You must have had it for years."

* * * * *

We left the theatre about eleven o'clock.

We had just come in, and I was disrobing in the hall—Berry was speaking to the chauffeur—when an exclamation from Jill, who was on the point of following Daphne and Jonah into the library, made me look round.

On the top step of the first flight of stairs stood a little white dog, regarding us squarely. He might have been painted by Maud Earl. His ears were pricked, his little forefeet placed close together, his tail was upright. A gas officer would have said that he was "in the alert position."

"Hello, Nobby," said I. "How goes it?"

At the sound of his name the terrier put his small head on one side with an air of curiosity as evident as it was attractive.

"What a darling!" cried Jill.

As she spoke I heard a latch-key inserted, and the next moment Berry pushed open the door.

Breathing out threatenings, the darling streaked down the stairs and across the hall to the new-comer's feet, where he stood with his back arched, one fore-paw raised, and bared teeth, emitting a long low snarl, while there was a look in the bright brown eyes which there was no mistaking.

My brother-in-law stood as if rooted to the spot.

Jill began to shake with laughter.

"What did I say?" said Berry, remaining motionless. "Can't enter my own house now. It's all right, old chap," he added, gazing at Nobby with a winning smile. "I belong here."

His statement was not accepted. Nobby, who was clearly taking no risks, replied with a growl charged with such malevolence that I thought it advisable to interfere.

I addressed myself to the terrier.

"Good man," I said reassuringly, patting Berry upon the shoulder.

Jonah contends that the dog construed my movement as an attempted assault, which it was his duty to abet. In any event, in less time than it takes to record, the growl culminated in that vicious flurry which invariably accompanies the closing of jaws, there was a noise of torn cloth, and with a yell Berry leapt for and reached the bookcase to which he adhered, clinging rather than perched, after the manner of a startled ape.

A roar of laughter from me and long, tremulous wails of merriment from Jill brought my sister and Jonah pellmell upon a never-to-be-forgotten scene.

The four of us huddled together, helpless with mirth, while Berry, calling upon Sirius, clung desperately to the bookcase, and Nobby, clearly interpreting our merriment as applause, stood immediately below his victim, panting a little with excitement and wagging his tail tentatively.

"After all," said my brother-in-law, "what is Death? A b-b-bagatelle. Excelsior. Of course, I ought to have a banner, really. Just to wave as I fall. Two and a half guineas these trousers cost. Think of the dogs you could get for that. Excelsior. Seriously, I should get him a set of false teeth and keep them locked up. It'll save in the end. Yes, I know it's side-splitting. I'm only sorry I haven't got a tail. Then I could hang from the electric light. As it is, what about calling off the dog? Not that I'm not comfortable. And the air up here's lovely. But——"

With an effort I pulled myself together and laid a hand on Jill's shoulder.

"Here," I said, nodding in Berry's direction, "here we have the Flat-footed Baboon, an animal of diverting but vulgar habits. That between its eyes is its nose. The only other known specimen is at Dartmoor."

"D'you mind not talking?" said Berry. "I'm just thinking out your death. They say pressing is very painful. Or would you rather call off the mammal?"

I picked up Nobby and put him under my arm.

"You know, you're a wicked dog," said I.

For a moment his bright brown eyes met mine. Then with a sudden movement he put up a cold black nose and licked my face....

Before we retired that night, Berry had admitted that Nobby had his points, Nobby had accepted from Berry a caviare sandwich, and I had handed my brother-in-law a cheque for two pounds twelve shillings and sixpence.

* * * * *

It had been arranged that we should spend Christmas with the St. Martins in Wiltshire, and we were to make the journey on the twenty-third. High festival was to be held at Red Abbey, a fine old place with mullioned windows and a great panelled hall that smacked of revelry and Christmas cheer even in summertime. On Christmas Eve there was to be a dance, on Boxing Day a tenants' ball, and on Christmas Day itself the house-party of twenty souls was to assemble for dinner correctly attired after the manner of children of tender years.

So far as clothes could do it, the spirit of childhood was to be recaptured that night. Guests had been put upon their honour to eschew evasion. Kilts and sailor suits had been forbidden, as was any suit or frock which was not the monopoly of juveniles. Hair was to be worn down, monocles and jewellery were banned. The trappings of Dignity were to be rigidly put off, and Innocence courted with appropriate mockery. The composition of the house-party, which had been carefully chosen, promised an entertainment of more than ordinary interest.

On all three evenings dance music was to be discoursed by a famous coloured band, whose services had long ago been retained for the occasion.

A long-standing engagement made it impossible for Berry to accompany us from London. On Tuesday he must leave Town for Hampshire, but time-tables were consulted, and it was discovered that he could travel across country on Christmas Eve, and, by changing from one station to the other at the market town of Flail, arrive at Red Abbey in time for tea.

"We can take your luggage with us," said Daphne. "You've got all you'll want for the night at White Ladies."

It was half-past nine o'clock, and we were all in the library, resting after the labours of the day.

Berry from the depths of the sofa grunted an assent.

"All the same," he added, "I must take something. Beard-eraser, for instance, and a clean neckerchief. Same as when you enlist."

"Everything you can possibly want's there already. Mrs. Foreland knows you're coming, and she'll put everything out."

"I have a weakness," replied her husband, "for my own sponge. Moreover, foolhardy as it may seem, I still clean my teeth. The only question is, what to put them in."

"What's the matter with your pockets?" said I.

"Nothing at present," said Berry. "That's why I shall want your dispatch-case."

"Nothing doing," said I. "I refuse to subscribe to my own inconvenience."

"Self," said Berry bitterly. "Why wasn't I born selfish? I've often tried, but you can't bend an oak, can you? Anybody can have my shirt at any time." Languidly he regarded his cuff. "No. Not this one, but almost any other. My life has been one long unrecognized sacrifice. And what is my reward?" He looked round about him with pitying eyes. "Poor bloated worms, you little know the angel that labours in your midst." His own being finished, with a sigh he took his wife's newly-lighted cigarette from the ashtray which they were sharing. "I had a dream last night," he added comfortably.

"What about?" said Jill.

"I dreamed," said Berry, "that I was a pint of of unusually broad beans. Several people remarked upon my breadth. After spirited bidding, I was secured by no less a personage than The McAroon himself, to whom I gave violent indigestion within twenty-four hours. Pleased with this attention, the laird erected in my memory a small bar at which the rankest poison could be obtained at all hours by asking in Hebrew for ginger ale. Which reminds me. I haven't taken my medicine." Meaningly he regarded the tray which had just been placed upon a side-table. "The doctor said I mustn't move about after meals, or I'd mix it myself. As it is...."

He broke off and looked round expectantly.

"Idle brute," said Daphne. "I wonder you aren't afraid to——Where's my cigarette? I only lighted one a moment ago."

"Perhaps it's behind your ear," suggested her husband. "Perhaps——"

"Where's the match you lighted that one from?" demanded his wife.

"Woman," said Berry indignantly, "you forget yourself. Besides, I didn't use a match. I kindled it by rubbing two sticks together. Same as they do in Guano, where the jelly comes from."

Here a diversion was caused by the opening of the door sufficiently to admit a slightly damp white ball with a black spot, which projected itself into the room as if possessed. Nobby. Exhilarated to frenzy by the reflection that at least four days must elapse before any one could be bothered to bathe him again, the terrier took a flying leap on to the sofa, licked Daphne's face, put a foot in Berry's eye, barked, hurled himself across the room to where Jonah was playing Patience, upset the card-table, dashed three times round the room, pretended to unearth a rat from the depths of Jill's chair, and finally flung himself exhausted at my feet.

"I suppose this is what they call 'animal spirits,'" said Berry. "Or 'muscular Christianity.'"

"It is well known," said I, "that exercise after a bath is most beneficial."

"No doubt," was the icy reply. "Well, next time I put my foot in your eye, assume that I've had a bath and call it 'exercise,' will you?"

"Have you written to the St. Martins?" said Daphne, "to say that you'll be a day late?"

"I have. The masterpiece is on the writing-table, awaiting insertion in an envelope."

I picked up the letter and read aloud as follows—

MADAM,

I am disposed to refer to your invitation to make one of the house-party due to assemble on the 23rd instant.

I am to say that a malignant Fate has decreed that I shall not dignify your hovel before the evening of the following day.

The feeling of profound disappointment which this announcement will provoke should be tempered by the reflection that you are fortunate indeed to have secured so enchanting a personality for your festivities, which, however hopeless they may appear, cannot fail to be galvanized into some show of life by my inspiring presence.

My luggage and the four ungrateful parasites who have so long battened upon my generosity will arrive on the 23rd, as arranged. One of the latter has stealthily acquired a mongrel, which, provided he can obtain the necessary permit, he proposes to bring with him. My protests against this abuse of hospitality have been received with that vulgar insolence which I have, alas, learned to expect.

I am to request you to remember that I am visiting you incognito, as the Duke of Blackpool, and that at this season it is my practice to consume a mince-pie and a bottle of beer before retiring.

I am, Madam,

Your obedient Servant,

BERRY PLEYDELL.

"Outrageous," said Daphne, "perfectly outrageous. However, there's no time to write another, so it had better go. Boy, be a dear and answer that invitation for me."

"This lecture thing?" said I, holding up a gilt-edged card.

My sister nodded.

"We'll have to go, I suppose."

In a flowing hand I wrote as follows—

Major and Mrs. Pleydell have much pleasure in accepting the Countess of Loganberry's kind invitation to attend Professor La Trobe's lecture on the 3rd of January.

When I had read this aloud—

"What an interesting subject!" said Berry. "We shall enjoy ourselves."

* * * * *

Three days later I was in the act of fitting a new blade to my safety-razor, when Berry entered the room fully dressed.

"I'm just off," he said, "but you may as well see what you've done before I go."

"What d'you mean?" said I.

"Read that."

He handed me a letter. I laid down my instrument of torture and read as follows—

SIR,

I am directed by the Countess of Loganberry to acknowledge your communication of the 20th inst., and to say that she cannot recollect the inclusion of your name among those of the guests invited to assemble at Pride Langley the day after to-morrow.

In these circumstances I am to express the hope that you will not trouble to favour her with your attendance upon the 24th inst. or any other date, and that you will take immediate steps to prevent the dispatch of your luggage and of the four parasites, for which, should they arrive, she can accept no responsibility.

I am to add that the Countess is not interested in the acquisition of the animal to which you refer, or in the nature of the victuals with which it is your habit to console yourself of nights.

I am, sir,

Your obedient servant,

FREDERICK BOLETON.

I stroked my chin thoughtfully. Then—

"I don't want to say anything rash," said I, "but it looks as if a mistake had been made."

"But what a brain!" observed my brother-in-law. "What insight!" He glanced at his watch. "And it's not half-past nine yet."

"It is wonderful, isn't it? Now, all we want is a line from Diana St. Martin to say how glad she is you're going to the lecture on January the 3rd. Do you agree, brother?"

"I am not here," said Berry loftily, "to discuss your crime. Have you anything to say why the Court should not give you judgment?"

"Yes. First, this communication must be answered forthwith. Secondly, Mr. Boleton is clearly a menace to Society. It is therefore our painful duty, brother, to proceed with the operation, inadvertently begun, of pulling his leg until he will require a pair of field glasses to see his own foot."

With a grin Berry clapped me on the back.

"I leave it to you, partner. Make the telegram windy. Wind always inspires wind." He took the letter out of my hand and slipped it into his pocket. "You won't want this document. And now I must be going. See you to-morrow, laddie."

The next moment he was gone.

Within the hour the following telegram was on its way to Pride Langley—

Your letter not understood aaa cannot consent to cancel my arrangements at this hour aaa expect me tomorrow as arranged aaa four tons of luggage entrained last night aaa loose-boxes containing parasites due to arrive at 5.15 to-day aaa imperative these should be watered and fed within one hour of arrival aaa acknowledge.

* * * * *

Although the train had yet to make its appearance, the platform was crowded. Somewhere at the far end Jonah was waiting to see that our heavy baggage was placed in the van, while Daphne, Jill and I were standing beside such articles as we were proposing to take in the carriage, hoping feverishly that, when the train pulled in, we should find ourselves opposite to a first-class coach.

"Thath a nithe dog," said an unpleasant voice on my left.

I turned to see a very dark gentleman, clad in a light tweed overcoat and cloth-topped boots, with a soft grey hat on the back of his head, smoking an insanitary cigar and smiling unctuously upon Nobby, who was tucked under my arm.

"Yes," I said.

"A Thealyham, ain't he?"

"I believe so."

Undeterred by my evident reluctance to converse, the fellow bowed his head as if to examine the dog, at the same time expelling a cloud of disgusting smoke.

In the twinkling of an eye the terrier had sneezed, wriggled from under my arm, and slipped to the ground.

I was just in time to see him scuttle in the direction of a crate of live turkeys which he had vainly struggled to approach when we passed them a few minutes earlier.

Suppressing a violent desire to choke his assailant, I thrust the rug I was carrying into Jill's arms, and started to elbow my way towards the turkeys.

A sudden stutter of barks, a fearful burst of gobbling, and a chorus of indignant cries suggested that the sooner I arrived to take charge, the better for all concerned.

As I pushed forward, the press swayed expectantly towards the edge of the platform, and I glanced round to see the train pulling in.

Thereafter my passage to the scene of the uproar was Homeric. Every step was contested, not actively, but with that jealous determination not to yield which distinguishes the prospective traveller who has bought an expensive ticket and, by no means certain that the supply of seats will be equal to the demand, interprets every movement as an attempt to secure an unfair advantage. I eventually arrived to find in progress a game which I prefer not to describe. Suffice it that, though Nobby was leading, two inspectors and a clergyman with an umbrella were running him pretty close, while the turkeys were simply nowhere.

With a well-timed dive I secured the terrier just as he evaded a left hook from the Church, and, disregarding the loud tones in which several intending passengers announced their conception of the qualifications of a dog-owner, fought my way back to where I had left the girls. The fact that the latter had managed to reserve and hold four seats did them, to my mind, infinite credit.

It was not until we were gliding out of the station that I looked round for my dispatch-case.

I did so in vain.

An investigation of the spaces between the seats and the floor proved equally fruitless.

I sank back in my seat with a groan.

"Where did you see it last?" said Daphne.

"I'm hanged if I know, but of course it was with the other things. I put it in the hall last night, and Falcon knows I always take it wherever I go."

"I'll swear nothing was left on the platform," said Jill.

"Nor in the car," said Jonah. "I looked there myself."

"I've not the slightest doubt it's been pinched," said I. "It's just the sort of thing that'd take a thief's fancy. By Jove!" I cried suddenly. "What about the swab in the light coat? I'll bet any money he took it."

"What swab?" said Jonah.

"Oh, a complete mobsman. Came and jawed about Nobby and then gassed him with his cigar till he did a bunk. That put me out of the way. With the girls trying to get a carriage, the rest was easy. Gad I Why doesn't one think of these things? It's locked, and there's nothing terribly valuable in it, but I do hate being stung."

"First stop Flail," said Jonah, looking at his watch. "You've got the best part of two hours to think it over. I should write out a synopsis of the crime in duplicate, with a description of the missing property——"

"And a plan of the station, I suppose, showing the all-red route I took to the crate of turkeys, with a signed photograph of Nobby. I've only got to attach my birth certificate, and there you are."

"Gentleman seems annoyed," said Jonah, unfolding the Pall Mall.

Jill laid a hand on my arm, and I laughed in spite of myself.

"He'll be fed to the teeth when he gets it open," I said. "I admit the cigars are not what he's accustomed to, but I'd like to meet the fence that'll take a nainsook pinafore and a couple of bibs."

This comfortable reflection in some sort consoled me. All the same, when we steamed into Flail I sent for the station-master and handed that gentleman two short descriptions—one of the dispatch-case, and the other of the thief. He promised readily to keep a look-out and inform the police.

"An' I'll telephone down the line, sir. You never know. He might be on the train, or even 'ave got out 'ere." I made as if to leave the compartment. "Ah, he'd be gone by now, an' you're just off. But I'll do what I can. Your address, Red Abbey. Very good, sir."

* * * * *

Diana St. Martin was at the station to meet us, in a fever of excitement and good-will. Her obvious disappointment at Berry's absence was allayed by our assurance that he would appear the next day.

"Of course," she announced, "I was thrilled to learn that you were going to the Loganberrys' lecture, but I couldn't help feeling that there was some news, more relevant to your visit, which I ought to know. Hullo! Is he going to honour us?" she added, pointing to Nobby, who, with tail erect and eyes looking sideways, was considering whether or no to accept the advances of an Irish terrier in the spirit in which they were patently offered. "What a darling!"

"If you please," said I.

"Splendid. And now come along. We can all get In the limousine, and there's a van for your luggage."

During the drive from the station I told her the style of the letter she should have received, and disclosed the grave construction placed upon it by the actual recipient. When I told her that Mr. Boleton and I were now in telegraphic communication, she gave a little crow of delight.

"How priceless!" she cried. "Perhaps there'll be a wire when we get back."

She was wrong. But only by a few minutes. Before we had been at Red Abbey for a quarter of an hour, a telegram was handed to me. Falcon had forwarded it from London.

Forced to regard your conduct as molestful delivery of your luggage will not be accepted parasites will remain boxed and receive necessary attention at your expense and risk pending instructions regarding their removal which should be communicated to station-master direct any attempt on your part to enter Pride Langley to-morrow will be forcibly resisted.

At once I arranged for the dispatch of the following reply—

At great inconvenience have arranged to postpone arrival of luggage and parasites until to-morrow aaa impossible however to stop elephants seven of which should reach you by road before midnight and remainder by 2 a.m. aaa as already slated am unable at this juncture to cancel my visit but shall certainly never stay at Pride Langley again aaa if "molestful" means what I think it does I shall point you out to the large parasite.

We spent a hilarious evening.

The Irish terrier showed Nobby that hospitality for which the Isle is famous. He made him free of the house and grounds, showed him the way to the kitchen, and indicated by occupation the most comfortable chairs. Nobby returned the compliment by initiating his host into the mysteries of a game which consisted of making a circuit of the great hall, ascending the main staircase, entering and erupting from any bedroom of which the door stood open, and descending the staircase—all of this recurring—with the least possible delay. The Irish terrier proved an apt pupil, and, so far as can be judged, if Diana's maid had not encountered them in the midst of their seventh descent, and been upset, and of vexation nipped by an angry competitor for her pains, the game might have gone on for weeks. This incident, however, followed by the production of a hunting whip, brought the game to a close and the host to his senses. Hastily he repaired a grave omission, and a moment later Nobby was cowering in comparative, if inconvenient, safety beneath an enormous tallboy chest.

After dinner cards were brought forth and vingt et un was played. In a weak moment I volunteered to "carry" Jill, who played with an abandon which was at once exhilarating and extremely expensive. Her persistent refusal to "stand" on anything less than twenty-one commanded an admiration which, but for my presence, would have been universal. The only run of luck with which her audacity was favoured coincided with my tenure of the bank, during which period she took fifty-two shillings off me in seven minutes.

As I pushed her counters across—

"I've heard of robbing Peter to pay Paul," I said gloomily, "but never of robbing Charlie to pay Chaplin. Why couldn't you do this when some one else had the bank?"

"You shouldn't deal me such cards," was the ungrateful reply.

A moment later she turned up a "natural" with a dazzling smile.

There was a roar of laughter.

"Of course, this is Berry's luck," said I. "And it needs Berry's tongue to cope with it. A little more, and I shall ship for Australia before the mast. Yes, I'll have a brandy-and-soda, please. Of appropriate strength."

"In inverse proportion to your luck?" said my host.

I shook my head.

"That would require Berry's liver. Besides, tomorrow morning I'm going to help your wife to decorate the church. I admit I was a fool to promise, but it's done now, and——"

The chocolate which Diana threw at me ricochetted from my cheekbone on to the hearth, and was devoured by Nobby in the very teeth of his host.

I looked at my watch with a sigh. "I suppose I ought to have told you that chocolates fall without the limit of his digestive powers. The last one took about four hours. And it's eleven now. I am glad I came."

My statement was received with ironical cheers....

It may or may not have been the chocolate, but in the small hours of the following morning it became expedient that I should admit Nobby into the open air. And so it came about that I stood patient and shivering, in a fur coat and pyjamas, at a garden door, while a small white rough-haired thing heaved upon the lawn twelve decent yards away.

The sailing moon, clear-cut, issued her cold white light and showed the sleeping country silent but troubled A pride of clouds rode high in heaven, and the same strong careless wind that bore them swept from the leafless boughs of earth below a boisterous melody, that rose and fell in league-long phrases, far as the ear could follow. Nature was in a royal mood. Her Cap of Maintenance was out, Pomp was abroad, the trump of Circumstance was sounding. A frown of dignity knitted her gentle brow, and meadows, roads, thickets and all her Court wore a staid look to do her honour. Only her favourite, water, dared to smile, and the flashing lake flung back the moonlight with long ripples of silvery laughter.

Somewhere close at hand an owl cried, and Nobby answered the challenge with a menacing bark. I whistled, and he came running, the very embodiment of health and spirits. Marvelling at a dog's recuperative powers, I reopened the door. As I did so, I heard the stable clock striking. Three o'clock.

* * * * *

Twelve hours later a servant entered the library to arouse me from a refreshing sleep with the news that some one desired to speak with me upon the telephone. Heavily I made my way to the lobby and put the receiver to my ear, but the first sentence I heard drove the lingering rearguard of Slumber headlong from my system.

It was an Inspector of Police, speaking from Flail.

"I think we've got your case, sir. Pigskin, seventeen inches by ten, an' a blue line runnin' acrost it?"

"That's right," I said excitedly.

"An' it's still locked. No initials. But we'd like your formal identification. Besides.... I don't know whether you could manage this afternoon, sir, but if you could.... You see, it's a matter of a charge. We're detainin' a man in connection with the thef'."

"Oh, I don't want to proceed. So long as I get the case back...."

"'Fraid we can't 'ardly do that, sir."

I groaned. Then—

"How far is Red Abbey from Flail?"

"Matter o' twelve mile, sir. Wouldn't take you no time in a car."

"I'll see what I can do. Good-bye."

Both cars were needed to meet incoming guests, but a Miss Doiran, who had arrived that morning in her own two-seater, offered to drive me to Flail and back before tea.

A quarter of an hour later we were on the road.

She listened attentively to the story of my loss. When I had finished—

"You'd little enough to go on, I must say. I'd never have dared to say that man had stolen it."

"It was a bow at a venture," I admitted. "But it seems to have come off. All the same, I don't want to charge the chap. He deserves six months, if only for his cigar, but I'd rather somebody else sent him down."

"I expect they'll make you. After all, it was a pretty smart capture, and the police'll be fed to the teeth if you don't go through with it."

"Considering it was stolen in London, I didn't see any sense in telling the police at Flail, but the station-master apparently knew his job."

With a temporarily disengaged hand Miss Doiran caressed Nobby, who was seated between us.

"I've always wanted a Sealyham," she sighed.

"You could have had one for nothing at three o'clock this morning."

"Did he have you up?"

I nodded.

"And down and out." I sighed. "It was a handsome night. Very cold, though. I thought of you all warm in bed."

"What a wicked story! You never knew of my existence."

"I thought of everybody. That embraced you. It's extraordinary how little women can wear without dying of exposure, isn't it?"

Miss Doiran glanced at her sleeve.

"This coat is lined with chamois leather," she said. "I don't know what more you want."

"Yes. But your stockings aren't. When you stepped into the car I was quite frightened for you."

My companion's chin rose, and she stared through the wind-screen with compressed lips.

"I'm as warm as toast," she said defiantly.

"If you're no warmer than the toast I had for breakfast this morning——"

"You should get up earlier."

"I thought I told you I was up and about at three."

"That doesn't count."

"Doesn't it? All right. You get up at three tomorrow and think of me all warm in bed, and see whether it counts. By the way, don't say you wear pyjamas, because I can't bear it."

Miss Doiran addressed our companion.

"Is he often like this, Nobby?"

I explained.

"It's not idle curiosity. You see, I'm editing a directory to be called That's That. It's really a short list of the few nice people left who aren't anybody: with just a word or two about their manners, failings, virtues, if any, and the attire they usually affect when off duty. It won't say when they were born, but why they were born."

"That'll sell it," said Miss Doiran.

"So you see. May I know now, or must I wait outside the bathroom?"

"I'm afraid," said Miss Doiran, "that you must wait outside the bathroom."

I sighed.

"If it is pyjamas," said I, "I shall scream."

Some geese hissed as we swept by. The noise was inaudible, but the hostility of their gesture was patent. Its effect upon Nobby was electrical. Exasperated to madness by the gratuitous insult, he made the most violent attempts to leave the car, only pausing the better to lift up his voice and rave at his, by this time distant, tormentors. His dignity was outraged and, what was much worse, unavenged.

"D'you still want him?" I shouted, holding fast to his collar with one hand, while with the other I strove to muffle his cries with the rug.

"Every time."

I swallowed before replying.

"Of course, this is exceptional," I said weakly. "He can be very good if he likes."

Miss Doiran laughed.

"I believe you just dote on him."

I lugged the white scrap out of the welter of rug and set him up on my knees. Surprised, he stopped barking and looked me full in the eyes. Then he thrust a cold nose into my face. Almost roughly I put him away.

"I believe you're right," I said.

Ten minutes later we drove up to Flail Police Station.

I thrust Nobby under my arm and stepped out of the car. Then I turned to the girl.

"I'll be as quick as I can," I said.

"Right oh!"

Sure enough it was my dispatch-case. In some embarrassment I described the ridiculous contents. Then I produced the key and confirmed my own words.

"I must say," I said, "you haven't wasted much time. How did you recover it?"

The inspector in charge looked grave.

"'E's a nice little lot, what took this case, sir. I shouldn't wonder if there was 'alf a dozen warrants out for 'im. As plausible a rogue as ever I see, an' as full o' swank as a negg is o' meat. Told us the tale proper, 'e did. One o' the kind as gets through by sheer nerve. Now, nine out o' ten'd 'ave bin through this 'ere case last night and throwed it away. But 'e's not that sort. Walks through the town this afternoon with it under 'is arm, as bold as brass." A 'plain-clothes' man entered and stood waiting. "All ready? Right." He turned again to me. "An' now, sir, we'll be obliged if you'll step into the yard and see if you see anybody you recognize. I'd like the identification to be regular."

Perceiving my chance of doing the thief a good turn, I assented readily. It was my fixed intention to recognize no one.

I followed the policeman into a high-walled yard.

Variously attired, six men were drawn up in line.

"Do you see anybody you know?" repeated the inspector.

I did. Standing third from the left, with a seraphic look on his face, was Berry.

For a moment I stood spellbound. Then I began to laugh uncontrollably.

"Go on, you fool," said Berry. "Indicate the felon. I admit it's one up to you, but I'll get my own back. You wait. Why, there's Kernobby." The terrier slipped from under my arm and ran to where he stood. "Good dog. But I mustn't play with you till the gentleman in blue boxcloth says so. 'Sides, I'm a giddy criminal, I am." He addressed my companion. "Will you dismiss the parade, inspector? Or shall we do a little troop drill?"

I turned to the bewildered officer.

"It's all a mistake, inspector. This is my brother-in-law. He must have borrowed the case without my knowledge. For goodness' sake, get these men away and we'll explain things."

The inspector hesitated, but Nobby's frantic efforts to lick the suspect's face settled the matter. Gruffly he acted upon my suggestion, and the little squad broke up.

In the charge-room we satisfied him of the sincerity of our statements and exonerated him from blame. To do the police justice, Berry was dressed more or less in accordance with my hazy description of the "thief," and it was my dispatch-case. Courtesies were exchanged, I signed a receipt for my property, and Berry, his effects restored, gave a poor devil, who was brought in to be charged with begging, enough to console the latter for his detention on Christmas Day.

A moment later I was introducing him to Miss Doiran.

"Thief and brother-in-law in one," I said. "A terrible combination."

Berry took off his hat and put a hand to his head.

"Whose reign is it?" he said dazedly. "When I entered the gaol it was King George."

* * * * *

With his back to the fire in Daphne's bedroom, Berry proceeded to clear the air.

"If any one of you four had a tenth of the instinct of a village idiot, it would have occurred to those diseased fungi which you call your minds that I had said I should want Boy's dispatch-case. But let that pass.

"I was walking through Flail according to plan, and following the tram-lines according to the drivelling advice given me by an outside porter with a suggestive nose. Need I say that before I had covered a hundred yards the lines branched? I was still praying for the soul of my informant, when I observed that a large blue constable, who was apparently lining the street, was staring at me as at an apparition. Courteously I gave him 'Good day.' In return he handed me a look which I shall try to forget, and asked me how I came by the dispatch-case.

"'I didn't,' I said. 'I came by train.'

"Noticing that he seemed piqued by my reply, I made haste to suggest that we should repair to a neighbouring dairy and consume two small glasses of butter milk and a sponge cake at my expense. Not to be outdone in hospitality, he made a counter-proposal, which, after some hesitation, I thought it discreet to accept. Our progress through the streets afforded the acme of gratification to the populace, most of whom accompanied us with every circumstance of enthusiasm and delight. Altogether it was most exhilarating.

"My reception at the police-station was cordial in the extreme. They told me their theory, and I gave them my explanation. The fact that the beastly case was still locked was naturally in my favour. In fact, everything in the garden was lovely, and I was on the point of pushing off to catch my train, when that fool of an inspector asked if I'd leave my card, as a matter of form.

"'I'm afraid I haven't one on me,' I said, 'but I daresay I've got an envelope,' and I started to feel in my pockets. There was only one paper there, and that wasn't an envelope. It was Mr. Boleton's letter.

"The moment I saw what it was, I knew I was done. I couldn't put it away, or they'd get suspicious. If I showed it them, they'd regard me as a first-class crook, and very big game. I suppose I hesitated, for the Inspector leaned forward and took it out of my hand.

"The rest was easy. I was reviled, searched, cautioned, examined, measured, described and finally told that I should be detained pending inquiries. I was then immured in a poisonous-looking dungeon, which, to judge from its atmosphere, had been recently occupied by an anti-prohibitionist, and, from its condition, not yet reached by the chambermaid.

"Yes," he concluded, "you have before you the complete gaol-bird."

"How did you spend your time?" said Jonah.

"B-b-beating my wings against the crool b-b-bars," said Berry. "My flutterings were most painful. Several turnkeys broke down. The rat which was attached to me for pay and rations gambolled to assuage my grief. Greatly affected by the little animal's antics, I mounted the plank bed and rang the b-b-bell for the b-b-boots. In due course they appeared full of the feet of a gigantic warder. I told him that I had not ordered vermin and should prefer a fire, and asked if they'd mind if I didn't dress for dinner. I added that I thought flowers always improved a cell, and would he buy me some white carnations and a b-b-begonia. His reply was evasive and so coarse that I told the rat not to listen, and recited what I could remember of 'The Lost Chord.'" He turned to me. "The remainder of my time I occupied in making plans for the disposal of your corpse."

"You've only yourself to thank," said I. "You shouldn't have borrowed the goods. I acted in good faith."

"I wonder," said Berry, "where one gets quicklime."

* * * * *

It was during the interval between the third and fourth dances, both of which had been given me by Miss Doiran, that the latter consulted her programme.

"I'm dancing the fifth," she announced, "with the Duke of Blackpool." I started violently, but she took no notice. "I think you know him. He was released from prison this afternoon. As my aunt's secretary, I've had some correspondence with him under the name of Boleton."

My brain began to work furiously.

"I scent collusion," I said. "Diana is in this."

Miss Doiran laughed.

"She rang me up directly she got your note about the lecture. The rest sort of came natural. I believe you were responsible for the telegrams. I congratulate you. The elephants were a brain-wave. My aunt was tickled to death by them."

"How dreadful! I mean—it's very nice of her. I'm afraid it was all rather impertinent."

"If so, we were the first to offend, and, after all, Major Pleydell has expiated his crime."

"And he's fixed my murder for the first week In January. There's really only you left."

"Oh, I'm punished already," said Miss Doiran. "I've lost my heart. And he doesn't love me."

"Would it be indiscreet to ask his name?"

Miss Doiran looked round the room.

"When I last saw him," she said, "he was talking to an Irish terrier."



CHAPTER V

HOW JILL'S EDUCATION WAS IMPROVED, AND DAPHNE GAVE HER HUSBAND THE SLIP.

"As I have frequently observed," said Berry, "your education has been neglected. I'm not blaming those responsible. Your instruction must have been a thankless task."

"I should think the masters who taught you enjoyed their holidays."

Such a reply from Jill was like a sudden snowstorm in June, and Berry, who was in the act of drinking, choked with surprise. When he had recovered his breath—

"You rude child," he said. "My prizes are among my most cherished possessions."

"Where d'you keep them?"—suspiciously.

"Chancery Lane Safe Deposit," was the reply. "When I die I shall leave them to the Wallace Collection. The shoes I wore at the first night of Buzz-Buzz are already promised to the Imperial Institute."

"When you've quite finished," said Daphne, "I'll suggest that we go up for the day on Friday. I don't mean to-morrow, but the one after."

"It's a little early in the year," said I. "All the same, there's no reason why we shouldn't go up again later on. It's always open."

"If the weather holds," said Jonah, "it will be looking wonderful."

Oxford. Some reference had been made to the city while we sat at dessert, and in the midst of a banana Jill had confessed that she had never been there. The rest of us knew the place well. Berry had been at Magdalen, Jonah at New College, and I had fleeted four fat years carelessly as a member of "The House." But, while my sister had spent many hours there during my residence, Jill had not once visited her brother—largely, no doubt, because there was a disparity of six years, in her favour, between their ages.

"I warn you," said Berry, "that I may break down. My return to the haunts of early innocence may be too much for me. Yes," he added, "I shouldn't be at all surprised if I were to beat my breast somewhere near The Martyrs' Memorial."

"An appropriate locality," said Jonah. "If my memory serves me, it was for a crime committed almost under the shadow of that monument that you were irrevocably sent down."

Berry selected a cigar before replying. Then—

"Only a malignant reptile would refer to that miscarriage of justice. It was not my fault that the animal which I employed exceeded its instructions and, as it were, pushed on after attaining its objective."

"You expected it to consolidate the position?" said I.

"Precisely. To dig itself in. It was like this. It was expedient—no matter why—that a large boar should be introduced into Balliol College shortly before 10 p.m. A gigantic specimen was accordingly procured and brought to the Broad Street entrance in a hansom cab. It was then induced to take up a position commanding the wicket-door. The juxtaposition of two hurdles, held in place by my subordinates, frustrated any attempt at untimely evacuation. At a given signal the customary kick was administered to the gate, indicating that some person or persons sought admission to the foundation. Unhesitatingly the porter responded to the summons. The wicket was opened, and the pig passed in."

"I think it was very cruel," said Daphne.

"Not at all," said her husband. "There was more succulent grass upon the lawns of Balliol than was dreamt of in its ferocity. To continue. My mission accomplished, I entered the hansom and drove to the Club. It was during an unfortunate altercation with the cabman, who demanded an unreasonably exorbitant sum for the conveyance of the pig, that I was accosted by a proctor for being gownless. The cab was still redolent of its late occupant, and, although nothing was said at the time, it was this which afterwards led the authorities to suspect my complicity. Even so, nothing would have been said but for a most distressing development.

"I had expected that the pig would confine its attention to the quadrangles and gardens and to startling such members of the college as happened casually to encounter it. Fate, however, decreed otherwise. It appears that the creature's admission coincided with the opening of a door which led directly into the Senior Common Room, where the Master and Fellows were still discussing classical criticism and some '34 port. Attracted by the shaft of light and the mellow atmosphere of good cheer and hilarity which streamed into the comparative gloom of the quadrangle, the pig made a bee-line for the doorway, and a moment later the exclusive circle was enriched by the presence of this simple and unaffected guest. The details of what followed have never transpired, but from the Senior Proctor's demeanour at a subsequent interview, and the amount of the bill for damage which I was requested to pay, I am inclined to think that the pig must have been a confirmed Bolshevist."

"I hope you apologized to the Master."

"I did. I received in reply a letter which I shall always value. It ran as follows—

SIR,

I beg that you will think no more of the matter. Youth must be served. Many years ago I assisted your father in a somewhat similar enterprise. Till the other evening I had always believed that the havoc provoked by the introduction of a dancing bear into a concert-room could not be surpassed. I am now less certain.

Yours very faithfully,

.."

"I think," said Jill, "he was very forgiving."

"It was deep," said Berry, "calling to deep. By the way, you'll all be pleased to hear that I have received peremptory instructions 'within one week to abolish the existing number by which this house is distinguished, and to mark or affix on some conspicuous part thereof a new number, and to renew the same as often as it is obliterated or defaced.' Selah."

"Whatever," said Daphne, "do you mean?"

"Sorry," said Berry. "Let me put it another way. Some genii, masquerading as officials, have got a move on. Snuffing the air of 'Reconstruction,' they have realized with a shock that the numbers of the houses in this street have not been changed for over half a century. Thirstily they have determined to repair the omission. We've always been '38.' In a few days, with apologies to Wordsworth, we shall be '7.' A solemn thought."

"But can we do nothing?"

"Certainly. In that case somebody else will obliterate the existing number, and I shall be summoned to appear before a Justice of the Peace."

"It's outrageous," said Daphne. "It'll cause endless confusion, and think of all our notepaper and cards. All the dies will have to be scrapped and new ones cut."

"Go easy," said I. "After a decent interval they'll alter the name of the street. Many people feel that The Quadrant should be renamed 'The Salient,' and Piccadilly 'High Street.' I'm all for Progress."

"Is this renumbering stunt a fact?" said Jonah. "Or are you Just being funny?"

"It's a poisonous but copper-bottomed fact," said Berry. "This is the sort of thing we pay rates and taxes for. Give me Germany."

"Can't we refuse?"

"I've rung up Merry and Merry, and they've looked up the law, and say there's no appeal. We are at the mercy of some official who came out top in algebra in '64 and has never recovered. Let us be thankful it wasn't geography. Otherwise we should be required to name this house 'Sea View' or 'Clovelly.' Permit me to remark that the port has now remained opposite you for exactly four minutes of time, for three of which my goblet has been empty."

"I think it's cruel," said Jill, passing on the decanter. "I think——"

"Hush," said Berry. "That wonderful organ, my brain, is working." Rapidly he began to write upon the back of a menu. "We must inform the world through the medium of the Press. An attractive paragraph must appear in The Times. What could be more appropriate than an epitaph? Ply me with wine, child. The sage is in labour with a song." Jill filled his glass and he drank. "Another instant, and you shall hear the deathless words. I always felt I should be buried in the Abbey. Anybody give me a rhyme for 'bilge'? No, it doesn't matter. I have ingeniously circumvented the crisis."

He added one line, held the card at arm's length, regarded it as a painter a canvas, sighed, and began to read.

A painful tale I must relate. We used to live at thirty-eight, But as we hope to go to heaven, We've come to live at number seven. Now, if we'd lived at number nine, I'd got a simply priceless line— I didn't want to drag in heaven, But nothing else will rhyme with seven.

"Soldier, mountebank, and rhymester too!" said Jonah. "And yet we breathe the same air."

"I admit it's strange," said my brother-in-law. "But it was foretold by my predecessor. I think you'll find the prophecy in Henry the Fifth. 'And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best, Neighboured by fruit of baser quality.' My game, I think. What?"

* * * * *

As was fitting, St. George's Day dawned fair and cloudless. Her passionate weeping of the day before dismissed, April was smiling—shyly at first, as if uncertain that her recent waywardness had been forgiven, and by and by so bravely that all the sweet o' the year rose up out of the snowy orchards, dewy and odorous, danced in the gleaming meadows and hung, glowing and breathless, in every swaying nursery that Spring had once more built upon the patient trees.

The Rolls sailed through the country, proudly indifferent to hill or dale, melting the leagues to miles with such swift deadliness as made you sorry for the lean old road that once had been so much to reckon with.

I was on the point of communicating this Quixotic reflection to Agatha Deriot, who was seated in front between Jill and myself, when there fell upon my reluctant ears that heavy sigh which only an expiring tire can heave. As I slowed up, it occurred to me that the puissance of the roads of England was still considerable.

"Which is it?" said Agatha.

"Off hind, I fancy." We were in the midst of a pleasant beechwood, and I pulled in to the side of the road with a grunt. "If it had to be, it might have happened in a less pleasing locality."