Wrayson lunched at the club that morning, and received a warm greeting from his friends. The subject of the murder was, as though by common consent, avoided. Towards the end of the meal the Colonel received a telegram, which he read and laid down upon the table in front of him. "By Jove!" he said softly, "I'd forgotten all about it. Boys, you've got to help me out." "We're on," Mason declared. "What is it? a fight?" "It's a garden party my girls are giving to-morrow afternoon," the Colonel answered. "I promised to take some of you down. Come, who's going to help me out? Wrayson? Good! Heneage? Excellent! Mason? Good fellows, all of you! Two-twenty from Waterloo, flannels and straw hats." The little group broke up, and the Colonel was hurried off into the Committee Room. Wrayson and Heneage exchanged dubious glances. "A garden party in May!" the latter remarked. "Taking time by the forelock a little, isn't it?" Wrayson sighed resignedly. "It's the Colonel!" he declared. "We should have to go if it were December!" CHAPTER VII THE COLONEL'S DAUGHTER After all, the garden party was not so bad. The weather was perfect, and the grounds of Shirley House were large enough to find amusement for all the guests. Wrayson, who had made great friends with the Colonel's younger daughter, enjoyed himself immensely. After a particularly strenuous set of tennis, she led him through the wide-open French windows into a small morning-room. "We can rest for a few minutes in here," she remarked. "You can consider it a special mark of favour, for this is my own den." "You are spoiling me," Wrayson declared, laughing. "May I see those photographs?" "If you like," she answered, "only you mustn't be too critical, for I'm only a beginner, you know. Here's a bookful of them you can look through, while I go and start the next set."