I sighed again when Will collected the papers and added the totals. Then came the reading. My dear, I had been led to suppose that what we had written was all in secret, but I _felt_ that Sir Adolphus was guessing how we had marked him. "Good looks"? He received nothing for that, not a single mark from the fifteen of us who were eating his food and drinking his wine. "Amiability"? About twenty, obviously given him by his wife and the Maitland boy, who was _very_ busy ingratiating himself; or perhaps by one of those ambiguous young women who seemed to be on terms of such extraordinary _freedom_ with him... "Humour"? Four or five. "Honesty"? Not more than fifteen or twenty. It was too terrible! He tried to laugh it off; but, when he got _no_ marks, we were _all_ exposed, and I saw him glaring at one after another. And there was one question--"Personal Charm", I think--when Will read out "_Minus ten_." ... I _knew_ it would happen. There always is some kind of unpleasantness when you begin playing with personalities and taking risks with other people's feelings. I don't think I have ever spent a more _distressing_ quarter of an hour. Oh, I was thankful when he said: "Well, so that's what you all think of me, hein? We-ell, what about a drink, what?" I felt--we _all_ felt--that he was really taking it in very good part... The men trooped off to a side-table. I made my way to Will in the hope of whispering just a word... He _had_ rather taken the lead in this ridiculous game, and I wished him to be _extra_ sweet to the Erskines for the rest of our visit... "Well, _I_ call it rather a frost," I heard him say, as I drew near. "I'd back 'Characters' to break up any house-party in England, but everybody's taken it lying down to-night..." I was _distressed_, for I really thought we had narrowly escaped some great unpleasantness. And then I found that we had not escaped it after all. Sir Adolphus came up to see that the others were looking after me properly and asked if he might have back the pencil that he had lent me. I surrendered it, he looked at it, pocketed it--and passed on. The others surrendered theirs, he looked at them... Then he came to Will... "I was just wondering," I heard him say. "Wondering what?," asked Will. "Who gave me _minus_ ten for--'Personal Charm', wasn't it? And nought for 'Loyalty', nought for 'Honesty', nought even for 'Hospitality' ... Just wondering." "It's a secret ballot," said Will. "Some one gave me nought for everything except 'Personal Charm', and there I received _minus_ ten... I was wondering who it was." "D'you suggest I did it?," asked Will. "Oh, I respect the secrecy of the ballot," answered Sir Adolf. "But I noticed that you were using an indelible-ink pencil and I was clumsy enough to spill some soda-water over some of the papers, including the only one written with an indelible-ink pencil... But it is all a game, is it not?"