f her. Estelle escaped
Nemesis by the turn of a hair.

Sir Peter came out of the library prepared to inspect the lawn. "What's
up with those boys?" he demanded, struck by the unusual sight of his
three sons advancing towards him from the river, their heads bent in
talk, and not apparently quarreling.

Lady Staines followed the direction of his eyes; then she said to
Estelle, "You'd better go in now, my dear; I'll talk to you later."

Sir Peter shouted in his stentorian voice an appeal to his sons to join
him. Lady Staines, while she waited, took off her white kid gloves and
her purple bonnet, and deposited them upon the balustrades.

"What are you up to," demanded Sir Peter when they came within earshot,
"sticking down there by the river with your heads glued together like a
set of damned Guy Fawkeses--instead of saying good-by to your mother's
guests--who haven't had the sense to get under way before seven
o'clock--though I gave 'em a hint to be off an hour ago?"

"Helping villagers to climb greasy poles, and finishing a sack race,"
Charles explained. "Lively time Winn's been having down there--I had no
idea our second housemaid was so pretty."

"None of that! None of that!" said Sir Peter, sharply. "You keep to
bar-maids, young Charles--and manicure girls, though there ought to be
an act of Parliament against 'em! Still, I'll admit you can't do much
harm here--three of you together, and your mother on the front
doorstep!"

"Harm," said James, winking in the direction of his mother; "what can
poor chaps like us do--here to-day and gone to-morrow--Mother'd better
keep her eye on those near home!"

"Off to-night you might as well say!" remarked Charles, glancing at
James with a certain intentness.

"Why off to-night?" asked Lady Staines. "I thought you were staying over
the week-end?"

"Winn's put us on to something," explained Charles. "Awfully good show,
he says--on at the Oxford. Pretty hot stuff and the censor hasn't smelt
it out yet--we rather thought we'd run up to-night and have a look at
it."

Winn stuck his hands in his pockets, set his jaw, and looked at his
mother. Lady Staines was regarding him with steady eyes.

"You didn't get a telegram, too?" she asked.

"No," said Winn. "Why should I?"

"Not likely," said James, genially. "Always behindhand in the--"

"Damn these midges!" said Charles, hurriedly. James stopped with his
mouth open.

"Army, you were going to say, weren't you?" asked hi