"I have," he said, "several duties to discharge. All, curiously enough, to myself. First, if not foremost, I must hire some sock-suspenders. Secondly, I must select some socks for the sock-suspenders to suspend. Is that clear? Neither last nor least----" "As a matter of fact," said his wife, "you're going to help me choose a present for Maisie Dukedom. Besides, I've got to go to Fortnum and Mason's, and I want you----" "To carry the string-bag. I know. And we can get the chops at the same time. We'd better take some newspaper with us. And a perambulator." "Tell you what," said Jonah, "let's all join together and give her a Persian rug." "That's rather an idea," said my sister. "And they wear for ever." "You're sure of that, aren't you?" said Berry. "I mean, I shouldn't like her to have to get a new one in about six hundred years. I like a present to last." Before Daphne could reply-- "How d'you spell 'business'?" said Jill, looking up from a letter. "Personally," said I, "I don't. It's one of the words I avoid. If you must, I should write it down both ways and see what it looks like." The telephone bell began to ring. "Wrong number, for a fiver," said Jonah. "They always do it about this time." Berry crossed the room and picked up the receiver. We listened expectantly. "Have I got a taxi! My dear fellow, I've got a whole school of them. Would you like a Renault or a baby grand? What? Oh, I'm afraid I couldn't send it at once. You see, I've only got one boy, and he's having his hair cut. I can post it to you, and I should think you'll get it to-morrow morning. No, I'm not mad. No, I'm not the cab-rank, either. Well, you should have asked me. Never mind. Let's talk of something else. I wonder if you're interested in rock-worms.... I beg your pardon...." Gravely he restored the receiver to its perch. "Not interested," he added for our information. "He didn't actually say so, but from the directions he gave concerning them--happily, I may say, quite impracticable----" "Talking of telephoning," said Jonah uncertainly, "don't forget we've got to ring up and say whether we want those tickets." "So we have," said my sister. "Wednesday week, isn't it? Let's see." She fell to examining a tiny engagement-book, murmuring to herself as she deciphered or interpreted the entries. I continued to survey the street. It was a dark morning in December, and we were all In the library, where there was a good fire, warming ourselves preparatory to venturing abroad and facing the north-east wind which was making London so unpleasant.