At this point in his reflections he arrived at the croquet-lawn with the strawberries, and was promptly commanded to put them down and stand by for further orders. This treatment, customary though it was, annoyed him; and, feeling unusually independent and assertive, he drifted behind a rhododendron bush, where he encountered his crony, Mr. Richard Blane, the son of the house, who was enjoying a quiet cigarette during a brief lull in the arduous labour of dispensing hospitality. "Hallo, Pip!" "Hallo!" "Cigarette?" "Thanks." The two smoked silently for a moment, sitting side by side on the garden-roller. "I say," inquired Mr. Blane, "who is that flapper you brought with you? All right--eh?" "Name of Innes," replied Pip shortly. "Scotch--pal of Pipette's." "Seems to be a pal of Cayley's, too," said Blane. "They were having a quiet ice in the shrubbery just now. Very thick, they looked." "Is Cayley here, then?" said Pip, looking more interested. "Yes. Has he given you your Blue yet?" Pip shook his head gloomily. "Bad luck! Well, there are still a few days. I expect he is waiting to see if the wicket is going to be hard or soft." "I suppose he hasn't given it to Honeyburn?" "Don't think so." "I expect he will," said Pip in resigned tones. "Rot! You seem to be fearfully down on your luck this afternoon, old man. Come and have an orgy of claret-cup. It's about all we keep to-day." Mr. Blane rose from the roller, brushing some blades of grass from his immaculate flannels. "Sorry--can't," said Pip. "Miss Carr said she might be able to play croquet with me about now," he explained awkwardly. Dick knew all about his infatuation. "Pip," said that youthful sage, inclining his head at a judicial angle, "you drop that girl! She's the wrong sort." "Look here, Dick--" began Pip indignantly. "Yes, I know," continued the voice of the misogynist. "She's perfect and all that; but no woman is worth the seriousness you are putting into this business. I believe it's spoiling your eyes, for one thing. Madeline Carr is simply making use of you. You see how she is behaving just now--playing a sort of in-and-out game? Well, she is waiting to see if you get your Blue. If you do, she will trot about with you during the luncheon interval at Lord's, and so on. It'll make the other girls jealous. If you don't--well, she'll have no use for you. Oh, I know 'em!" The orator wagged his head and paused for breath. To Pip most of this diatribe was rank blasphemy, but he felt uncomfortably conscious that there was some truth in his friend's remarks. Still, he stood up stoutly for his ideal. "Don't talk rot, Dick!" he said. "There may be a few women like that,--just one or two,--but this girl isn't one of them. Why, you have only got to look at her face to see that!" The world-weary Blane surveyed his friend with something approaching consternation.