st for me. Ten of them, and
all bills."

He spread the envelopes out on the table, and drew one at a venture.

"Whiteley's," he said. "Getting jumpy. Are in receipt of my favour of
the 7th inst. and are at a loss to understand. It's rummy about these
blighters, but they never seem able to understand a damn thing. It's
hard! You put things in words of one syllable for them, and they just
goggle and wonder what it all means. They want something on account.
Upon my Sam, I'm disappointed with Whiteley's. I'd been thinking in
rather a kindly spirit of them, and feeling that they were a more
intelligent lot than Harrod's. I'd had half a mind to give Harrod's the
miss-in-baulk and hand my whole trade over to these fellows. But not
now, dash it! Whiteley's have disappointed me. From the way they write,
you'd think they thought I was doing it for fun. How can I let them
have their infernal money when there isn't any? Here's one from
Dorchester. Smith, the chap we got the gramophone from. Wants to know
when I'm going to settle up for sixteen records."

"Sordid brute!"

I wanted to get on with my own correspondence, but Ukridge held me with
a glittering eye.

"The chicken-men, the dealer people, you know, want me to pay for the
first lot of hens. Considering that they all died of roop, and that I
was going to send them back anyhow after I'd got them to hatch out a
few chickens, I call that cool. I mean to say, business is business.
That's what these fellows don't seem to understand. I can't afford to
pay enormous sums for birds which die off quicker than I can get them
in."

"I shall never speak to Aunt Elizabeth again," said Mrs. Ukridge
suddenly.

She had dropped the letter she had been reading, and was staring
indignantly in front of her. There were two little red spots on her
cheeks.

"What's the matter, old chap?" inquired Ukridge affectionately,
glancing up from his pile of bills and forgetting his own troubles in
an instant. "Buck up! Aunt Elizabeth been getting on your nerves again?
What's she been saying this time?"

Mrs. Ukridge left the room with a sob. Ukridge sprang at the letter.

"If that demon doesn't stop writing her infernal letters and upsetting
Millie, I shall strangle her with my bare hands, regardless of her age
and sex." He turned over the pages of the letter till he came to the
passage which had caused the trouble. "Well, upon my Sam! Listen to
this, Garny, old horse. 'You tell me nothing rega