It was to a small luncheon party, given especially for the three pairs of lovers at Mourne Lodge, that Eileen and Paddy and Jack set out that bright, crisp morning. Gwen and her giant, Doreen and her barrister, Eileen and her stalwart rancher—these were the three amorous couples whom Lawrence, Kathleen and Paddy had to severally and together keep within the bounds of rational dinner-table conversation for a whole hour. After that they were prepared to wash their hands of them and let them hide away and discuss delightful nothings to their own delectation until tea-time. Doreen and the pump-handle court representative announced their intention of playing billiards, which no one thought it worth while to contradict, however sceptical he felt, and anyhow they bent their steps in the direction of the billiard-room. Eileen and Jack decided upon a quick walk, and the giant, of course, merely waited orders. At first they seemed to hang fire. Gwen was manoeuvring in a way that certainly meant something, but it was very difficult to tell exactly what. As a matter of fact, she was waiting on the off chance of Kathleen being called away. Directly the hoped-for call came she was prompt to act. “Come along, Paddy,” she said, putting her arm through hers; “let’s go and rummage round in Lawrence’s den. I think it’s just the loveliest spot in the whole house! Did you ever see such a rag-tag and bobtail of odds and ends before? I just love poking round there.” And she led the way at once, Lawrence and the giant following. For several minutes she really did poke round, and then she discovered she had lost her handkerchief, and promptly dispatched the giant in search. As he was naturally as close to her as he could be she had no difficulty in adding in a tone that he only could hear, “Don’t come back.” After three minutes she looked up in the most natural way imaginable and remarked, “Whatever can Goliath be doing? My handkerchief must be in the dining-room. Perhaps he can’t see so far as the floor.” Paddy had seated herself in a large easy-chair, and, scenting nothing of the plot, was idly watching the fire. She had, in consequence, no time to realise what was on foot until it was too late. “I shall have to go and help him search,” said Gwen with a pretence at annoyance. “He is a terrible muff at finding any thing.” Whereupon she calmly departed and closed the door behind her, leaving Paddy sitting in the big arm-chair, and Lawrence leaning against the mantelpiece, looking down at her with an odd little twinkle in his eyes. In the dining-room Gwen found Kathleen, but she was quite prepared for the emergency. “Where has everybody gone?” Kathleen asked wonderingly. “All gone out, I think,” Gwen replied unblushingly, and then went off with her Giant to the drawing-room, knowing perfectly well Lawrence’s sisters never went into his den, and that therefore her strategy was quite successful.