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Celia has more relations than would seem possible. I am gradually getting to know some them by sight and a few more by name, but I still make mistakes. The other day, for instance, she happened to say she was going to a concert with Uncle Godfrey. "Godfrey," I said, "Godfrey. No, don't tell me--I shall get it in a moment. Godfrey ... Yes, that's it; he's the architect. He lives at Liverpool, has five children, and sent us the asparagus-cooler as a wedding present." "No marks," said Celia. "Then he's the unmarried one in Scotland who breeds terriers. I knew I should get it." "As a matter of fact he lives in London and breeds oratorios." "It's the same idea. That was the one I meant. The great point is that I placed him. Now give me another one." I leant forward eagerly. "Well, I was just going to ask you--have you arranged anything about Monday?" "Monday," I said, "Monday. No, don't tell me--I shall get it in a moment. Monday ... He's the one who---- Oh, you mean the day of the week?" "Who's a funny?" asked Celia of the teapot. "Sorry; I really thought you meant another relation. What am I doing? I'm playing golf if I can find somebody to play with." "Well, ask Edward." I could place Edward at once. Edward, I need hardly say, is Celia's uncle; one of the ones I have not yet met. He married a very young aunt of hers, not much older than Celia. "But I don't know him," I said. "It doesn't matter. Write and ask him to meet you at the golf club. I'm sure he'd love to." "Wouldn't he think it rather cool, this sudden attack from a perfectly unknown nephew? I fancy the first step ought to come from uncle." "But you're older than he is." "True. It's rather a tricky point in etiquette. Well, I'll risk it." This was the letter I sent to him:-- "MY DEAR UNCLE EDWARD,--Why haven't you written to me this term? I have spent the five shillings you gave me when I came back; it was awfully ripping of you to give it to me, but I have spent it now. Are you coming down to see me this term? If you aren't you might write to me; there is a post-office here where you can change postal orders. "What I really meant to say was, can you play golf with me on Monday at Mudbury Hill? I am your new and favourite nephew, and it is quite time we met. Be at the club-house at 2.30, if you can. I don't quite know how we shall recognize each other, but the well-dressed man i
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