and sent me to bed
as being the elder of the naughty ones. After that we played at fairies
in a glade, which was much cooler.

It was in the evenings that I was loneliest; for then Barbara went early
to bed, and the lovers strolled about together in the moonlight. With
the intention, half-malicious, half-pitiful, of filling up my time,
Doria taught me a new and complicated Patience. Then finally, when
Doria, having spent a couple of polite minutes in the drawing-room, had
retired, and when I was tired out from the strain of the day and
half-asleep through weariness, Adrian would mix himself the longest
possible brandy and soda, light the longest possible cigar and try to
keep me up all night listening to his conversation.

At last, one Friday evening, while I was engaged in my forlorn and
unprofitable game, the butler entered the drawing-room with unperturbed
announcement:

"Mr. Chayne on the telephone, sir."

I sent the card table flying amid the wreckage of my lay-out and rushed
to the telephone.

"Hullo! That you, Jaff?"

"Yes, old man. Very much me. A devil of a lot of me. How are you?"

His strong bass boomed through the receiver. I have always found a
queer comfort in Jaffery's voice. It wraps you round about in thundering
waves. We exchanged the commonplaces of delighted greeting. I asked:

"When did you arrive?"

"A couple of days ago."

"Why on earth didn't you let me know at once?"

I heard him laugh. "I'll tell you when I see you. By the way, can
Barbara have me for the week-end?"

This was like Jaffery. Most men would have asked me, taking Barbara for
granted.

"Barbara would have you for the rest of time," said I. "And so would
Susan. I'll expect you by the 11 o'clock train."

"Right," said he.

"And, I say!"

"Yes?"

"Talking of fair ladies--what about--?"

"Oh, Hell!" came Jaffery's great voice. "She's here right enough."

"Where?" I asked.

"The Savoy. So is Euphemia--"

Euphemia was Jaffery's unmarried sister, as like to her brother as a
little wizened raisin is to a fat, bursting muscat grape.

"Euphemia has taken her on. Wants to convert her."

"Good Lord!" I cried. "Is she a Turk?"

"She's a problem." And his great laugh vibrated in my ears.

"Why not bring her down with Euphemia?"

"I want a couple of days off. I want a good quiet time, with no female
women about save Barbara and my fairy grasshopper whom, as you know, I
love to distraction."

"But will Euphemia