_(c) the respective epidemics of smallpox and diphtheria, by reports of which he deterred me from visiting Sundial, never prevailed._ _I have not the power to throw open Mesne Holms. It is common land, and if grazing fees have been paid for its use, they have been appropriated by Warthog._ _I will not let you the Manor House, because I propose quite shortly to reside there myself._ _Yours faithfully,_ _CHARLES PENDRAGON._ So did Audrey de Lisle. _DEAR CHRISTOPHER JOHN,_ _Thank you very much for your letter. I’m sorry I called you a ‘sweep’ and I’m sorry that I believed all the gossip I heard. That comes of going outside my nursery rhyme. I won’t do it again._ _I never knew you were Pendragon till I saw that the Arms on the archway were the same as those on your ring. I ought to have realized then that you knew your job, but the dismissal of Warthog stuck in my throat. It never occurred to me that he was a rogue._ _Your self-indignation the other evening was priceless. I loved it. I had to join in, of course, but I didn’t mean all I said._ _Please may I see the Manor House again? Last time I was rather preoccupied. Will you take me there this evening, and tell me if I may tell Sundial the truth and say that the Lord of the Manor will be in his family pew on Sunday morning?_ _AUDREY._ * * * * * It was the quiet hour. The sun had just gone down, and the broad terrace was flushed with a rosy pride: the aged giants upon the lawn stood up like gentlemen-at-arms, majestic monuments of silence; the sweet air was breathless. Somewhere a wood-pigeon was chanting the ritual of Peace. “May I tell Sundial?” said Audrey. “Yes.” “And will you be in your pew on Sunday morning?” “Yes.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” said Audrey. The Lord of the Manor smiled. “You made a most excellent Queen. If I had said who I was, it would have cramped your style.” “You let me sit in your pew, find favour by calling you names, order you about your own business. . . . Why did you do that, Christopher?” The Lord of the Manor stared at the plumes of the cedars against the blue of the sky. “You know why,” he said. There was a silence. At length— “The end had to come,” said Audrey: “the end of the fairy-tale. We came for a night and we’ve stayed for nearly a month. It was very nice of you to let it go on so long.” “If I’d had my way,” said Pendragon, “it would be still running. But the Queen wandered out of the parlour and into the counting-house.” “A most undignified act,” said Audrey de Lisle. “If she’d stuck to her bread and honey, all would have been well.” “It wasn’t undignified at all,” said the Lord of the Manor. “It was purely feminine.”