The conversation that passed over the telephone, between the Duke of Battersea and the agent, was singularly and needlessly acrimonious upon the part of the aged statesman, almost servile upon the part of the agent; both emotions might surely have been spared to two men who at heart knew themselves to be worthy of nobler things, had not Mr. Bailey, by his precipitate ill-temper, destroyed arrangements which would probably have been for his own good, and certainly for that of the community at large. The upshot of the conversation was that the Duke, despairing of understanding the situation, announced his intention of coming himself to Mickleton by noon, and the agent, pleased as he was at the advertisement that such a visit must afford him, would willingly have foregone the honour for the sake of that peace which he feared never to regain. At noon the motor-car glode up with its tiny strawberry leaf coronet and the dainty arms upon the panels. The agent came out, was obsequious, deferential, intelligent and full of sympathy, but unfortunately incapable of the rapid perception which was demanded of him. His only reply was that he could not see how he could do it; that he would do everything he could; he would be delighted to withdraw the placards which were even now being got ready to stand outside the hall; he would make what difficulties he could for the admission of the Press--though he very much doubted his power to exclude reporters once the hall was hired. When, in the midst of his excuses, he suddenly let light into his caller's mind by saying: "And of course everything would be subject to the proprietors." "Who are then the proprietors?" said the Duke sharply. "The Anglo-Saxon Exchange," said the agent with that touch of pride which we all feel when we mention any important power with which we have even a distant connection. The Duke was relieved. "That I should also have known," he said gently, and then changing his manner altogether he added: "That is _allright_, that is _allright_," separating the first two words and laying stress upon the first syllable of the last, in a manner which still faintly betrayed those difficulties with the English language which he had had the courage and the perseverance to conquer almost completely. He went away in a frame of mind at which the agent was at once too polite and too humble to wonder, but which was certainly far less agitated than that in which he had come. It was a heavy strain to fall upon a man of the Duke of Battersea's age, and one that should have been spared him, but no one knew better than that strong genius of finance what things may be done by deputy and what things must be done in person. Nor will any of my readers regret that the old man's investigation should have left him freed of the fears which the vicious and unpatriotic conduct of an irresponsible eccentric had aroused.