“Where are you going, Mr. Carter?” she asked; for I rose from my chair. “To have a quiet smoke,” said I. “Alone?” asked Dolly. “Yes, alone,” said I. I walked towards the door. Dolly stood by the table fingering the album. I had almost reached the door; then I happened to look round. “Mr. Carter!” said Dolly, as though a new idea had struck her. “What is it, Lady Mickleham?” “Well, you know, Mr. Carter, I--I shall try to forget that mistake of yours.” “You’re very kind, Lady Mickleham.” “But,” said Dolly with a troubled smile, “I--I’m quite afraid I shan’t succeed, Mr. Carter.” After all, the smoking room is meant for smoking. AN UNCOUNTED HOUR We were standing, Lady Mickleham and I, at a door which led from the morning room to the terrace at The Towers. I was on a visit to the historic pile (by Vanbrugh--out of the money accumulated by the third Earl--Paymaster to the Forces--temp. Queen Anne). The morning room is a large room. Archie was somewhere in it. Lady Mickleham held a jar containing pate de foie gras; from time to time she dug a piece out with a fork and flung the morsel to a big retriever which was sitting on the terrace. The morning was fine, but cloudy. Lady Mickleham wore blue. The dog swallowed the pate with greediness. “It’s so bad for him,” sighed she; “but the dear likes it so much.” “How human the creatures are,” said I. “Do you know,” pursued Lady Mickleham, “that the Dowager says I’m extravagant. She thinks dogs ought not to be fed on pate de foie gras.” “Your extravagance,” I observed, “is probably due to your having been brought up on a moderate income. I have felt the effect myself.” “Of course,” said Dolly, “we are hit by the agricultural depression.” “The Carters also,” I murmured, “are landed gentry.” “After all, I don’t see much point in economy, do you, Mr. Carter?” “Economy,” I remarked, putting my hands in my pockets, “is going without something you do want in case you should, some day, want something which you probably won’t want.” “Isn’t that clever?” asked Dolly in an apprehensive tone. “Oh, dear, no,” I answered reassuringly. “Anybody can do that--if they care to try, you know.” Dolly tossed a piece of pate to the retriever. “I have made a discovery lately,” I observed. “What are you two talking about?” called Archie. “You’re not meant to hear,” said Dolly, without turning round. “Yet, if it’s a discovery, he ought to hear it.” “He’s made a good many lately,” said Dolly. She dug out the last bit of pate, flung it to the dog, and handed the empty pot to me. “Don’t be so allegorical,” I implored. “Besides, it’s really not just to Archie. No doubt the dog is a nice one, but--” “How foolish you are this morning! What’s the discovery?” “An entirely surprising one.” “Oh, but let me hear! It’s nothing about Archie, is it?” “No, I’ve told you all Archie’s sins.” “Nor Mrs. Hilary? I wish it was Mrs. Hilary!” “Shall we walk on the terrace?” I suggested.