tly, with the assistance of the fowls. But you mustn't look on me
as in any way responsible for the arrangements at the farm. I am merely
a labourer. The brainwork of the business lies in Ukridge's department.
As a matter of fact, I came down here principally in search of golf."

"Golf?" said Professor Derrick, with the benevolent approval of the
enthusiast towards a brother. "I'm glad you play golf. We must have a
round together."

"As soon as ever my professional duties will permit," I said gratefully.

* * * * *

There was croquet after lunch,--a game of which I am a poor performer.
Phyllis Derrick and I played the professor and Tom Chase. Chase was a
little better than myself; the professor, by dint of extreme
earnestness and care, managed to play a fair game; and Phyllis was an
expert.

"I was reading a book," she said, as we stood together watching the
professor shaping at his ball at the other end of the lawn, "by an
author of the same surname as you, Mr. Garnet. Is he a relation of
yours?"

"My name is Jeremy, Miss Derrick."

"Oh, you wrote it?" She turned a little pink. "Then you must have--oh,
nothing."

"I couldn't help it, I'm afraid."

"Did you know what I was going to say?"

"I guessed. You were going to say that I must have heard your
criticisms in the train. You were very lenient, I thought."

"I didn't like your heroine."

"No. What is a 'creature,' Miss Derrick?"

"Pamela in your book is a 'creature,'" she replied unsatisfactorily.

Shortly after this the game came somehow to an end. I do not understand
the intricacies of croquet. But Phyllis did something brilliant and
remarkable with the balls, and we adjourned for tea. The sun was
setting as I left to return to the farm, with Aunt Elizabeth stored
neatly in a basket in my hand. The air was deliciously cool, and full
of that strange quiet which follows soothingly on the skirts of a
broiling midsummer afternoon. Far away, seeming to come from another
world, a sheep-bell tinkled, deepening the silence. Alone in a sky of
the palest blue there gleamed a small, bright star.

I addressed this star.

"She was certainly very nice to me. Very nice indeed." The star said
nothing.

"On the other hand, I take it that, having had a decent up-bringing,
she would have been equally polite to any other man whom she had
happened to meet at her father's house. Moreover, I don't feel
altogether easy in my mind about that naval chap. I fear the wo