“You do see the point, Lord Pembury? The introduction of the friend makes it a shade more palatable, but it doesn’t eliminate that distressing element of eccentricity. Is it your practice to—er—sport a bottle of beer? Of course not. Then why did you do it? From hospitable motives? For a wager? Why?” “I’m not going to say any more,” said Viscount Pembury. “I’m sorry to be so graceless. I know you’re trying to help me and I’m carefully crampin’ your style. But there you are. Please do what you can with what you’ve got.” There was a long silence. “He mayn’t . . . mayn’t be content with a fine, you know,” said Forsyth. “I know. It can’t be helped.” Counsel folded his Brief and rose to his feet. The conference was at an end. As the door closed behind Pembury— “Who the devil is he shielding?” said Quaritch. “I wish to God I knew,” said Forsyth bitterly. * * * * * Sir Hilton Shutter was thoroughly pleased with life. For one thing, he was standing with his back to a roaring fire: for another, he was a guest at Castle Charing, a pleasant residence to which he had long hoped to be invited: for another, his future wife, seated on a sofa before him, was looking particularly lovely in a frock of powder-blue and gold: finally, from the solemn, almost subdued demeanour of his host and hostess, he perceived that his discourse was creating a profound impression. A booming note slid into his voice. “Leadership. To-day, more than ever before, people require a lead. Point them the way, and they’ll move. But you must point it definitely. Your indication must be downright, courageous.” He paused to flick his cigar ash into the grate. “I wrote to _The Times_ to-day,” he continued, frowning. “Did you?” said his hostess pleasantly. “What about?” “This question of drunken motorists,” was the reply. Mrs. Fairie started, and her husband’s hand flew to his moustache. “It’s more than a public scandal,” continued Shutter. “It’s a national disgrace. I don’t mean——” “I know,” said Fairie nervously. “There’s been a lot of agitation about it, but——” “I agree. But the evil remains.” “Oh, they’ll stamp it out,” said Fairie. “Trust them. People are beginning to see it’s not good enough. By the way——” “By ‘national disgrace,’” said Shutter, “I mean that the failure of the authorities to observe the will of those who appoint and pay them to do their will is a state of affairs which would not be tolerated in any other country in the world.” “I agree,” said his host heartily. “It’s wicked.” “Monstrous,” said Mrs. Fairie. “What about some Bridge?” “One minute,” said Lady Elizabeth. “What’s monstrous?” “This drunkenness stunt,” said Fairie. “Let’s——” “No, no, no,” cried Shutter. “I thought you didn’t quite follow me. My point is that, outrageous as is the offence, the failure of those whose signal duty it is to eradicate it is still more infamous.”