I believe he's got men on the brain,
especially young men. He's growing worse. Yesterday he told me I musn't
have the punt out on Mozewater this season unless he's with me. Fancy
skiffing about with father! He says I'm too old for that now. So there you
are. The older I get the less I'm allowed to do. I can't go a walk, unless
it's an errand. The pedal is off my bike, and father is much too cunning to
have it repaired. I can't boat. I'm never given any money. He grumbles
frightfully if I want any clothes, so I never want any. That's my latest
dodge. I've read every book in the house except the silly liturgical and
legal things he's always having from the London Library--and I've read even
some of those. He won't buy any new music. Golf! Ye gods, Winnie, you
should hear him talk about ladies and golf!"

"I have," said Miss Ingate. "But it doesn't ruffle me, because I don't
play."

"But he plays with girls, and young girls, too, all the same. He's been
caught in the act. Ethel told me. He little thinks I know. He'd let me play
if he could be the only man on the course. He's mad about me and men. He
never looks at me without thinking of all the boys in the district."

"But he's really very fond of you, Audrey."

"Yes, I know," said Audrey. "He ought to keep me in the china cupboard."

"Well, it's a great problem."

"He's invented a beautiful new trick for keeping me in when he's out. I
have to copy his beastly Society letters for him."

"I see he's got a new box," observed Miss Ingate, glancing into the open
cupboard in which stood the safe. On the top of the safe were two japanned
boxes, each lettered in white: "The National Reformation Society." The
uppermost box was freshly unpacked and shone with all the intact pride of
virginity.

"You should read some of the letters. You really should, Winnie," said
Audrey. "All the bigwigs of the Society love writing to each other. I bet
you father will get a typewriting machine this year, and make me learn it.
The chairman has a typewriter, and father means to be the next chairman.
You'll see.... Oh! What's that? Listen!"

"What's what?"

A faint distant throbbing could be heard.

"It's the motor! He's coming back for something. Fly out of here, Winnie,
fly!"

Audrey felt sick at the thought that if her father had returned only a few
minutes earlier he might have trapped her at the safe itself. She still
kept one hand behind her.

Miss Ingate, who with all her quali