"Yes. Well, I wanted to tell you that I think he has quite an idea of the game, and that with more experience he would probably be good enough to play for--for Surrey. Second eleven. Yes. At hockey." "Thank you so much. You've known him a long time, haven't you?" "We were babes together, madam. At least, simultaneously. We actually met at school. He had blue eyes and curly hair, and fought the captain on the very first day. On the second day his hair was still curly, but he had black eyes. On the third day he got into the cricket eleven, and on the fourth he was given his footer cap. Afterwards he sang in the choir, and won the competition for graceful diving. It was not until his second term that the headmaster really began to confide in him. By the way, is this the sort of thing you want?" "Yes," smiled Dahlia. "Something like that." "Well, then we went to Cambridge together. He never did much work, but his algebra paper in the Little Go was so brilliant that they offered him the Senior Wranglership. He refused on the ground that it might interfere with his training for the tug of war, for which he had just obtained his blue--and---- It's a great strain making all this up. Do you mind if I stop now?" "Of course I know that isn't all true, but he is like that, isn't he?" "He is. He put me in first to-day." "I know you really are fond of him." "Lorblessyou--yes." "That makes you my friend, too." "Of course." I patted her hand. "That reminds me--as a friend I feel bound to warn you that there is a person about in the neighbourhood called Samuel Simpson who meditates an evil design upon you and yours. In short, a poem. In this he will liken you to the azalea, which I take to be a kind of shrubby plant." "Yes?" "Yes, well, all I want to say is, if he comes round with the hat afterwards, don't put anything in." "Poor man," smiled Dahlia. "That's his living, isn't it?" "Yes. That's why I say don't put anything in." "I see. Oh, there--he's out. Poor Archie." "Are you very sorry?" I said, smiling at her. "I'm just going, you know." "Between ourselves," I said later to Myra, "that isn't at all a bad girl." "Oh, fancy!" "But I didn't come to talk about her. I came to talk about my seventeen." "Yes, do let's." "Yes. Er--you begin." CHAPTER VII ALL OVER "May I have a dance?" I asked Miss Blair. She put her head on one side and considered. "One, two, three--the next but _five_," she said. "Thank you. That sounds a lot; is it only one?" "You may have two running then, if you like." "What about two running, and one hopping, and one really gliding? Four altogether." "We'll see," said Miss Blair gravely. Myra, who was being very busy, came up and dragged me away. "I want to introduce you to somebody. I say, have you seen Thomas?" "It's no earthly good introducing me to Thomas again."