orning the sun blazed from a cloudless sky, but within and
without the air was still and lifeless, and the members of the house
party, gathered round the breakfast table, showed signs of an
unrefreshing night in pale and listless faces. Conversation flagged,
and Grizel sounded a frank note of warning:

"I'm in a vile temper. Be careful, all of you. If anyone annoys me,
I'll snap. Nothing seems right this morning. Martin, the shape of your
head gets on my nerves! I can't think _why_ I married you."

"Neither can I, darling. Have some cream!" Martin carried the jug
round the table, and tried to pour cream over a plate of strawberries,
but Grizel pushed him aside.

"Don't _fuss_! If I want cream, I can ask for it. Some people have no
tact. Why wasn't breakfast set in the garden? Nobody thinks of
anything in this house, unless I see after it myself... Let's have a
picnic lunch!"

Martin looked at the Squire, the Squire looked at Martin. Their plans
were made for a long day's golf, and each felt a pang of anticipatory
regret; moreover, each hated picnics, with a true man's hatred.
Grizel's quick eyes caught the glance, and had no difficulty in
understanding its meaning. It seemed indeed that she was thankful of an
opportunity to snap.

"Pray, don't trouble yourselves. We don't want anyone to come on
sufferance. Captain Peignton will look after Teresa, and Cassandra and
I are perfectly happy alone. Go off on your horrid old golf. We don't
want you!"

"I apologise for my wife, Raynor. She is usually quite polite to her
visitors. Just a little atmospheric disturbance. Take no notice.
She'll be sorry by and by."

Grizel looked across the table, and made two separate and deliberate
grimaces, one at the Squire, the other at her husband.

"That's nothing to what I can do, if I choose! Better be careful!
Captain Peignton, do _you_ want to come? You're engaged, of course, and
engaged men used to wish to be with their _fiancees_, but that's all
changed since they began to play golf. I'm a bride of six months, and
my husband vowed before hundreds of witnesses to cherish me all his
life, and you see how he scowls if I ask him to spare me an hour!
Teresa, be warned by me, and break it off unless he gives up golf. I
hate and detest golf. Golf has ruined my life. We'll look after you,
Teresa dear, don't worry! We'll have chicken and mayonnaise, and fruit
and lemonade, and Cassandra and I will dry your