“Giving up going to the office. The fact is, dear,” said Mrs. Fisher, “Vosper has complained.” “What about?” “About you going to the office. He says he has never been in the employment of any one engaged in commerce, and he doesn’t like it. The Duke looked down on commerce very much. So I’m afraid, darling, you will have to give it up.” Bradbury Fisher stared before him, a strange singing in his ears. The blow had been so sudden that he was stunned. His fingers picked feverishly at the arm of his chair. He had paled to the very lips. If the office was barred to him, on what pretext could he sneak away from home? And sneak he must, for to-morrow and the day after the various qualifying sixteens were to play the match-rounds for the cups; and it was monstrous and impossible that he should not be there. He must be there. He had done a ninety-six, and the next best medal score in his sixteen was a hundred and one. For the first time in his life he had before him the prospect of winning a cup; and, highly though the poets have spoken of love, that emotion is not to be compared with the frenzy which grips a twenty-four handicap man who sees himself within reach of a cup. Blindly he tottered from the room and sought his study. He wanted to be alone. He had to think, think. The evening paper was lying on the table. Automatically he picked it up and ran his eye over the front page. And, as he did so, he uttered a sharp exclamation. He leaped from his chair and returned to the boudoir, carrying the paper. “Well, what do you know about this?” said Bradbury Fisher, in a hearty voice. “We know a great deal about a good many things,” said Mrs. Maplebury. “What is it, Bradbury?” said Mrs. Fisher. “I’m afraid I shall have to leave you for a couple of days. Great nuisance, but there it is. But, of course, I must be there.” “Where?” “Ah, where?” said Mrs. Maplebury. “At Sing-Sing. I see in the paper that to-morrow and the day after they are inaugurating the new Osborne Stadium. All the men of my class will be attending, and I must go, too.” “Must you really?” “I certainly must. Not to do so would be to show a lack of college spirit. The boys are playing Yale, and there is to be a big dinner afterwards. I shouldn’t wonder if I had to make a speech. But don’t worry, honey,” he said, kissing his wife affectionately. “I shall be back before you know I’ve gone.” He turned sharply to Mrs. Maplebury. “I beg your pardon?” he said, stiffly. “I did not speak.” “I thought you did.” “I merely inhaled. I simply drew in air through my nostrils. If I am not at liberty to draw in air through my nostrils in your house, pray inform me.” “I would prefer that you didn’t,” said Bradbury, between set teeth. “Then I would suffocate.” “Yes,” said Bradbury Fisher. * * * * *