Before we retired that night, Berry had admitted that Nobby had his points, Nobby had accepted from Berry a caviare sandwich, and I had handed my brother-in-law a cheque for two pounds twelve shillings and sixpence. * * * * * It had been arranged that we should spend Christmas with the St. Martins in Wiltshire, and we were to make the journey on the twenty-third. High festival was to be held at Red Abbey, a fine old place with mullioned windows and a great panelled hall that smacked of revelry and Christmas cheer even in summertime. On Christmas Eve there was to be a dance, on Boxing Day a tenants' ball, and on Christmas Day itself the house-party of twenty souls was to assemble for dinner correctly attired after the manner of children of tender years. So far as clothes could do it, the spirit of childhood was to be recaptured that night. Guests had been put upon their honour to eschew evasion. Kilts and sailor suits had been forbidden, as was any suit or frock which was not the monopoly of juveniles. Hair was to be worn down, monocles and jewellery were banned. The trappings of Dignity were to be rigidly put off, and Innocence courted with appropriate mockery. The composition of the house-party, which had been carefully chosen, promised an entertainment of more than ordinary interest. On all three evenings dance music was to be discoursed by a famous coloured band, whose services had long ago been retained for the occasion. A long-standing engagement made it impossible for Berry to accompany us from London. On Tuesday he must leave Town for Hampshire, but time-tables were consulted, and it was discovered that he could travel across country on Christmas Eve, and, by changing from one station to the other at the market town of Flail, arrive at Red Abbey in time for tea. "We can take your luggage with us," said Daphne. "You've got all you'll want for the night at White Ladies." It was half-past nine o'clock, and we were all in the library, resting after the labours of the day. Berry from the depths of the sofa grunted an assent. "All the same," he added, "I must take something. Beard-eraser, for instance, and a clean neckerchief. Same as when you enlist." "Everything you can possibly want's there already. Mrs. Foreland knows you're coming, and she'll put everything out." "I have a weakness," replied her husband, "for my own sponge. Moreover, foolhardy as it may seem, I still clean my teeth. The only question is, what to put them in." "What's the matter with your pockets?" said I. "Nothing at present," said Berry. "That's why I shall want your dispatch-case." "Nothing doing," said I. "I refuse to subscribe to my own inconvenience."