"Now look here!" he said. "Can’t you arrange better? Can’t you talk with Polly in the morning and find out what she intends to do?" "Oh, Eddie, it doesn’t matter!" cried Polly in distress. Eddie saw the distress and grew more angry. Angelica saw it also, and understood it. "It seems to me," he said, "that when Polly goes out so seldom, she might have the benefit of her own car. She’s not well--you must remember that." Mrs. Russell was smiling her mechanical smile. "She shall have the car," she said, "whenever she wants it. If I’d known to-day, I shouldn’t have taken it." "I meant to ask Angelica to ask you," said Polly. "I did ask her, too," said Angelica. "No," said Mrs. Russell, still smiling. "You didn’t. You forgot, I suppose." "Were you out in it all day, then?" demanded Eddie. "My dear boy, I was. And now, if you please, we won’t have any more of this. You can do your scolding in private. Polly shall have the car all the time. Tommy!" she said, turning to her husband. "Who do you think I had lunch with at the Country Club but Horace and Julie Naylor? Poor Horace! She is such a dreadful, vulgar little minx! And yet she’s so amusing. I must have her down here again." "Not when I’m home," said Eddie. "I think she’s disgusting." "Pretty little woman, though," said the doctor. "Plenty of _them_!" said Eddie. Mrs. Russell had got away from the subject of the motor-car, and rested satisfied. It was a question with Angelica whether, after all, she hadn’t triumphed. It was a drawn battle, at the best. But before the evening was over the combatants were obliged to forget their hostility and to ally themselves against their common tyrant. All very well for them to quarrel together, but they didn’t forget that Eddie was the source of all good, and that, to placate him, all private feuds must be ignored. They were still sitting at the table when a telegram arrived, which Eddie opened and read with a frown. "Confound it!" he said. "Here’s a nice row! Vincent’s getting a bit _too_ bad. This really puts me in a very awkward position. I gave him a letter to give to a man, and apparently he never did. I’ll have to get hold of him now, and find out what he did do with it." He rose from the table, and so did Polly and Mrs. Russell. "What’s the matter?" cried Polly, with an anxiety that seemed to Angelica extreme. "What has Vincent done?" "I gave him a letter to deliver to a man who was leaving for San Francisco--an important letter; and now the fellow telegraphs that he’s reached there, and that the letter hasn’t reached him yet. He should have got it a week ago, before he left. "But don’t bother Vincent to-night!" implored his mother. "You can’t do anything now. Wait till morning!" "Why shouldn’t I bother him? He’s bothered me enough! I’m not going to humour him in this damn fool idea of shutting himself up like a---- He’ll have to behave like a human being!" Polly laid a soothing hand on his arm.