ure, the Irish courts would be kept busy enough without being forced
to deal with a writ issued by Selby-Harrison against me. I sat down at
once and remitted, making out my cheque for the round sum of L10, and
telling Selby-Harrison that he could set the extra 7.75 pence against
postage and petty cash. I pointed out at the same time that the
advertiser, considering the unexpectedly wide publicity which had
been given to his desire for second-hand feather beds, had got off
ridiculously cheap. I suggested that he might, if approached, agree to
pay the extra.25 of a penny.

I turned over the other three envelopes and chose for my next experiment
one addressed in a delicate female hand. It seemed to me scarcely
possible that letters formed as these were could convey sentiments of
any but a fragrant kind. I turned out to be mistaken. This letter was
more pitiless even than Selby-Harrison's stark mathematical statements.

"Owing to the incessant worry and annoyance of the last three days I am
prostrate with a bad attack of my old enemy and am obliged to dictate
this letter."

The signature, written with evident pain, told me that the dictator was
my Uncle Thormanby. The "old enemy" was, as I knew, gout.

"Miss Battersby is acting as my amanuensis."

For the fifth or sixth time in my life I felt sorry for Miss Battersby.

"Canon Beresford's girl has libelled eighty or ninety bishops in the
most outrageous way. I am not sure of the law, but I sincerely hope that
it may be found possible to send her to gaol with hard labour for a term
of years. Not that I care what she says about bishops. They probably
deserve all they get and in any case it's no business of mine. What
annoys me is that she has mixed you up in the scandal. Old Tollerton
was sniggering about the club in the most disgusting way the day before
yesterday, and telling every one that you were financing the minx. He
says he has it on the best authority.

"I found a letter waiting for me when I came home from the secretary of
the Conservative and Unionist Parliamentary Association, asking me if
the rumour was true. I had just arranged with them to put you up for the
East Connor division of Down at the general election and everything was
looking rosy. Then this confounded stinkpot of a bombshell burst in our
midst. That outrageous brat of Beresford's ought to be soundly whipped.
I always said so and it turns out now that I was perfectly right.

"I need scarcely t