Jimphy wanted to know why it was that he and Henry had not met again since the night that "Cecily let a chap in for a damn play," and reminded him of their engagement to visit the Empire together. "Anyhow," he said, "you can come and lunch with us. Cecily'll be glad to see you. I said I'd come home to lunch if I could find some one worth bringing with me, so that's all right!" "How is Lady Cecily?" Henry asked, as he and Jimphy left the Park together. "Oh, I expect she's all right," Jimphy answered. "I forgot to ask this morning, but if she'd been seedy or anything she'd have told me about it, so I suppose she's all right!" "When's this play of Farlow's coming on?" Jimphy asked on the doorstep of his house. "Wednesday," Henry answered. "Cecily's made me promise to go and see it with her. What sort of a piece is it?" They entered the house as he spoke. "It's excellent...." "Is it comic?" "Well, I suppose it is. He calls it a comedy," Henry said. "So long as there's a laugh in it, I don't mind going to see it. I can't stand these weepy bits. 'Hamlet' and that sort of stuff. Enough to give a chap the pip! Oh, here's Cecily!" Henry turned to look up the stairs down which Lady Cecily was coming, and then he went forward to greet her. "How nice of you," she said. "Has Gilbert come, too?" "No," he answered, chilled by her question. "He has a rehearsal this morning!" "Oh, yes, of course," she said. "His play! I forgot. We're going to see it on Wednesday. I hope it's good!" "It's very good," Henry replied. 3 Jimphy left them after lunch. He was awfully sorry, old chap, to have to tear himself away and all that, but the fact was he had an appointment ... an important appointment ... and of course a chap had to keep an important appointment.... "We'll forgive you, Jimphy!" Lady Cecily said, and then he went away, begging Henry to remember that they must go to the Empire together one night. "Well?" said Lady Cecily when her husband had gone, "how are you all getting on?" She was reclining on a couch, with her feet resting on a cushion, and as she asked her question she pointed to another cushion lying on a chair. He fetched it and put it behind her back. "Splendidly," he answered. "Is that right?" She settled herself more comfortably. "Yes, thanks," she said. "I read your novel," she went on. "Did you like it?" "Oh, yes. Of course, I liked it. I suppose you're writing another book now!" He nodded his head, and she went on. "I wish I could write books, but of course I can't. Mr. Lensley says I live books. Isn't that nice of him? Do you put real people in your books, or do you make them all up? Do you know, I think I'll have another cigarette!"