till I had cleaned up the first platter and was embarking on a
second that the subject of Gussie came up. Considering what had passed at
Market Snodsbury that afternoon, it was one which I had been expecting
her to touch on earlier. When she did touch on it, I could see that she
had not yet been informed of Angela's engagement.

"I say, Bertie," she said, meditatively chewing fruit salad. "This
Spink-Bottle."

"Nottle."

"Bottle," insisted the aunt firmly. "After that exhibition of his this
afternoon, Bottle, and nothing but Bottle, is how I shall always think of
him. However, what I was going to say was that, if you see him, I wish
you would tell him that he has made an old woman very, very happy. Except
for the time when the curate tripped over a loose shoelace and fell down
the pulpit steps, I don't think I have ever had a more wonderful moment
than when good old Bottle suddenly started ticking Tom off from the
platform. In fact, I thought his whole performance in the most perfect
taste."

I could not but demur.

"Those references to myself----"

"Those were what I liked next best. I thought they were fine. Is it true
that you cheated when you won that Scripture-knowledge prize?"

"Certainly not. My victory was the outcome of the most strenuous and
unremitting efforts."

"And how about this pessimism we hear of? Are you a pessimist, Bertie?"

I could have told her that what was occurring in this house was rapidly
making me one, but I said no, I wasn't.

"That's right. Never be a pessimist. Everything is for the best in this
best of all possible worlds. It's a long lane that has no turning. It s
always darkest before the dawn. Have patience and all will come right.
The sun will shine, although the day's a grey one.... Try some of this
salad."

I followed her advice, but even as I plied the spoon my thoughts were
elsewhere. I was perplexed. It may have been the fact that I had recently
been hobnobbing with so many bowed-down hearts that made this cheeriness
of hers seem so bizarre, but bizarre was certainly what I found it.

"I thought you might have been a trifle peeved," I said.

"Peeved?"

"By Gussie's manoeuvres on the platform this afternoon. I confess that I
had rather expected the tapping foot and the drawn brow."

"Nonsense. What was there to be peeved about? I took the whole thing as a
great compliment, proud to feel that any drink from my cellars could have
produced such a majestic jag. It