Oh, shut it, Francis," he observed.

Francis raised himself on his elbow.

"Why, what's up?" he asked. "Won't she turn a favourable eye?"

Michael wheeled round savagely.

"Please remember you are talking about a lady, and not a Gaiety lady,"
he remarked.

This brought Francis to his feet.

"Sorry," he said. "I was only indulging in badinage until lunch was
ready."

Michael could not make up his mind to tell his cousin what had happened;
but he was aware of having spoken more strongly than the situation, as
Francis knew of it, justified.

"Let's have lunch, then," he said. "We shall be better after lunch, as
one's nurse used to say. And are you coming to Ashbridge, Francis?"

"Yes; I've been talking to Aunt Bar about it this morning. We're both
coming; the family is going to rally round you, Mike, and defend you
from Uncle Robert. There's sure to be some duck shooting, too, isn't
there?"

This was a considerable relief to Michael.

"Oh, that's ripping," he said. "You and Aunt Barbara always make me feel
that there's a good deal of amusement to be extracted from the world."

"To be sure there is. Isn't that what the world is for? Lunch and
amusement, and dinner and amusement. Aunt Bar told me she dined with you
the other night, and had a quantity of amusement as well as an excellent
dinner. She hinted--"

"Oh, Aunt Barbara's always hinting," said Michael.

"I know. After all, everything that isn't hints is obvious, and so
there's nothing to say about it. Tell me more about the Falbes, Mike.
Will they let me go there again, do you think? Was I popular? Don't tell
me if I wasn't."

Michael smiled at this egoism that could not help being charming.

"Would you care if you weren't?" he asked.

"Very much. One naturally wants to please delightful people. And I think
they are both delightful. Especially the girl; but then she starts with
the tremendous advantage of being--of being a girl. I believe you are in
love with her, Mike, just as I am. It's that which makes you so grumpy.
But then you never do fall in love. It's a pity; you miss a lot of jolly
trouble."

Michael felt a sudden overwhelming desire to make Francis stop this
maddening twaddle; also the events of the morning were beginning to take
on an air of reality, and as this grew he felt the need of sympathy of
some kind. Francis might not be able to give him anything that was
of any use, but it would do no harm to see if his cousin's buoyant
un