"Only five tea-cups. Jessie broke two more yesterday, and there's one with a piece out that you or I could use. Oh! and there are the two breakfast cups and two odd ones which would make up the number, but they're such a mixed lot." Jessie is our domestic staff and a champion china-breaker. "If Jessie," I said, "were not so good to young Peter I should insist on handing her back her credentials. Hold! I have the germ of an idea. Leave me to work it out, please. I see credit, nay kudos, in it." At the end of ten minutes Alison looked in again. "I'm just putting the finishing touches," I said. "Kindly ask Peter to spare me a few moments. He's sailing his boats in the bath, I imagine. By the way, what time are these people coming?" "Half-past four," said Alison, "and it's now nearly four." "Then please see that Jessie brings in tea at five exactly." "Why exactly?" said Alison. "Why not?" I said. "Five is a very good hour, and it's part of my scheme." "It's most mysterious," said Alison. "It's particularly ingenious," I said. "Everything dovetails in beautifully, and if you'll carry out your small share all will be well. By the way, if I make any remark to the company before tea which is not--er--strictly true, you will please to take no notice of it." "I'll try not to," said Alison, "if it isn't too outrageous." "Oh, no," I said, "nothing to shy at. But I might find it necessary to say something about a Worcester tea-set. Listen," I said before she could interrupt. "When you hear me say, 'Worcester tea-set' you say 'Great heavens!' or whatever women say under stress of great emotion. But sit tight. Don't go and see about it." "See about what?" "The Worcester tea-set, of course." "But we haven't got one." "My dear girl," I said, "try to imagine we have. In this little drawing-room comedy you've only one line to learn, and your cue's 'Worcester tea-set.'" "But what's the idea?" said Alison. "The idea," I said, "is great, but it is as well you should not know the whole plot of the piece yet. Play your one line, and I, as stage manager, will answer for the rest of the cast." "And what's Peter got to do with it? I want him to have tea with Jessie." "Right," I said. "Peter's part is important, but is played off--in the wings, as it were." My interview with Peter was not a long one. "Now look here, old pal," I said at the close, "quarter to exactly, in the bathroom." "Right-o! Daddy." Peter (aetat. 9) has a wrist-watch already and winds it regularly, so I knew he wouldn't fail me. At a quarter to five I was talking to Mrs. Padbury, the Rector's wife, about the doings of the various Armies in the field. I was sitting in such a position that, while seeming to attend only to her, I could keep an eye on the drawing-room clock behind her. Every detail of my scheme had been carefully arranged; it now only remained for the actors to play their ... Crash!