"All right," said Eloquent. "Many thanks . . . I suppose you think it very absurd?" he added nervously. This time Grantly did not look at Mafeking's left ear, he looked straight into Eloquent's uplifted eyes, saying slowly: "I don't see that I'm called upon to think anything about it. You've done another kind thing in asking me. Why should you think I don't see it?" And in spite of himself Eloquent mumbled, "I beg your pardon." "This afternoon then, at three-thirty sharp--good-day." A loafer hurried up at this moment and Grantly swung off his horse and ran up the steps into the bank. Eloquent looked after the graceful figure in the well-cut riding clothes and sighed-- "If I'd been like himself he'd have asked me to hold his horse while he went in, but things being as they are, he wouldn't," he reflected bitterly. * * * * * * Only one belonging to a large family knows how difficult it is to do anything by one's self. That afternoon it seemed to Grantly that each member of the Manor House party wanted him for something, and he offended every one of them by ungraciously refusing to accompany each one in turn. His mother and Mary were driving into Marlehouse and wanted him to come and hold the horse while they went into the different shops, but he excused himself on the score of his morning's errand, and Uz was told off for the duty, greatly to his disgust. Reggie asked Grantly to ride with him, but Grantly complained of fatigue, and Reggie, who knew perfectly well that the excuse was invalid, called him a slacker and started forth huffily alone, mentally animadverting on the "edge" displayed by the new type of cadet. Nearly ten years' service gave Reggie the right to talk regretfully of the stern school he had been brought up in. Ger, on the previous day, had been sent to his grandparents at Woolwich "by command"; and the Kitten was going with Thirza to a children's party. She was therefore made to lie down for an hour after lunch--so she was disposed of. There remained only Buz, and Buz was on the prowl seeking someone to amuse him. His arm was still in a sling and he expected sympathy. He shadowed Grantly till nearly half-past three, when that gentleman appeared in the back passage clad in sweater and shorts, with a Rugger ball under his arm. "Hullo," cried Buz, "where are you off to?" "I'm going to practise drop-kicks . . . by myself," Grantly answered grumpily. "Why can't I come? I could kick even if I can't use this beastly arm." "No, it's too cold for you to stand about." "Bosh; I can wrap myself in a railway rug if it comes to that." "It needn't come to that. You go for a sharp walk or else take a book and amuse yourself. I must be off." "Well you _are_ a selfish curmudgeon," Buz exclaimed in real astonishment. "Why this sudden passion for solitude?"