er. He laid down his
tools and looked up with an air of humorous resignation as his wife
came in. Mrs. Foster was a slender, vivacious woman, fond of society.

"Put that greasy thing away for a few minutes and listen to me," she
said, sitting down opposite him.

"I am listening; I'm inclined to think it's my normal state," Foster
answered with a smile. "The greasy thing cost forty guineas, and I
wouldn't trust it to Jenkins after young Jimmy dropped it in a ditch.
Jenkins can rear pheasants with any keeper I've met, but he's no good
at a gun."

"You shouldn't have taken Jimmy out; he's not strong enough yet."

"So it seems; he gave us some trouble in getting him back to the cart
after he collapsed in the wood, but it wasn't my fault. He was keen on
coming."

Mrs. Foster made a sign of agreement. Jimmy was her cousin, Lieutenant
Walters, lately invalided home from India.

"Perhaps you were not so much to blame, but that was not what I came to
talk about," she said.

"Then I suppose you want my approval of some new plans. Go ahead with
any arrangements you wish to make, but as far as possible, leave me
out. Though it was a very wet spring, I never saw the pheasants more
plentiful; glad I stuck to the hand-rearing, though Jenkins wanted to
leave the birds alone in the higher woods. Of course, now we've
cleared out the vermin----"

"Oh! never mind," his wife broke in. "You would talk about such things
all day. The question is----"

"It strikes me it's---- When are we going to have the house to
ourselves? Though I don't interfere much, I've lately felt that I'm
qualifying for a hotel-keeper."

"You have been unusually patient, and I'm getting rather tired of
entertaining people, but Margaret Keith says she'd like to come down.
You don't mind her?"

"Not a bit, if she doesn't insist on bringing a menagerie. It was cats
last time, but I hear she's now gone in for wild animals. If she turns
up with her collection, we'll probably lose Pattinson; he had all he
could stand on the last occasion. Still, Meg's good fun; ready to meet
you on any ground, keen as a razor. But what about Mrs. Chudleigh? Is
she going?"

"She hasn't mentioned it. In fact, I was wondering----"

"Whether she'd stop if you pressed her? Try it and see. Anyhow, she's
not in my way and the place seems to meet with her approval. But
what's she after? It can't be young Jimmy; he's hardly worth powder
and shot from her point