“Honey,” he said, fervently, “you musn’t get mad about this. Maybe, if we try again, it will be all right. Give me another chance. Let me come out and play a round to-morrow. I think perhaps your style of play is a thing that wants getting used to. After all, I didn’t like olives the first time I tried them. Or whisky. Or caviare, for that matter. Probably if--” Mrs. Fisher shook her head. “I shall never play again.” “Oh, but, listen--” She looked at him fondly, her eyes dim with happy tears. “I should have known you better, Bradbury. I suspected you. How foolish I was.” “There, there,” said Bradbury. “It was mother’s fault. She put ideas into my head.” There was much that Bradbury would have liked to say about her mother, but he felt that this was not the time. “And you really forgive me for sneaking off and playing at Squashy Hollow?” “Of course.” “Then why not a little round to-morrow?” “No, Bradbury, I shall never play again. Vosper says I mustn’t.” “What!” “He saw me one morning on the links, and he came to me and told me--quite nicely and respectfully--that it must not occur again. He said with the utmost deference that I was making a spectacle of myself and that this nuisance must now cease. So I gave it up. But it’s all right. Vosper thinks that gentle massage will cure my wheezing, so I’m having it every day, and really I do think there’s an improvement already.” “Where is Vosper?” said Bradbury, hoarsely. “You aren’t going to be rude to him, Bradbury? He is so sensitive.” But Bradbury Fisher had left the room. * * * * * “You rang, sir?” said Vosper, entering the Byzantine smoking-room some few minutes later. “Yes,” said Bradbury. “Vosper, I am a plain, rugged man and I do not know all that there is to be known about these things. So do not be offended if I ask you a question.” “Not at all, sir.” “Tell me, Vosper, did the Duke ever shake hands with you?” “Once only, sir--mistaking me in a dimly-lit hall for a visiting archbishop.” “Would it be all right for me to shake hands with you now?” “If you wish it, sir, certainly.” “I want to thank you, Vosper. Mrs. Fisher tells me that you have stopped her playing golf. I think that you have saved my reason, Vosper.” “That is extremely gratifying, sir.” “Your salary is trebled.” “Thank you very much, sir. And, while we are talking, sir, if I might--. There is one other little matter I wished to speak of, sir.” “Shoot, Vosper.” “It concerns Mrs. Maplebury, sir.” “What about her?” “If I might say so, sir, she would scarcely have done for the Duke.” A sudden wild thrill shot through Bradbury. “You mean--?” he stammered. “I mean, sir, that Mrs. Maplebury must go. I make no criticism of Mrs. Maplebury, you will understand, sir. I merely say that she would decidedly not have done for the Duke.” Bradbury drew in his breath sharply.