Olga's eyes opened wide at the familiarity of speech and action. Sir Kersley faintly smiled. "Since Miss Ratcliffe received me so kindly as a friend of yours," he said, "I hope she will continue to regard me in that light, and dispense with all unnecessary ceremony. Miss Ratcliffe, I drink to our better acquaintance!" "How nice of you!" said Olga. "I return thanks on Miss Ratcliffe's behalf," said Max. "How long has the Hunt-Goring monstrosity been here?" Olga's face clouded. "Oh, ages! Do you think Nick will persuade him to go?" "He can't stop to lunch if he isn't asked," said Max. "An unwelcome visitor?" asked Sir Kersley. "Yes, a neighbour of ours," explained Olga. "He lives about two miles away at a place called The Warren. He is retired from the Army. He shoots and hunts in the winter and loafs all the summer." "A very horrid man," said Max with a twinkle. "He broke his thumb the other day and we haven't been quit of him since. You see, Miss Ratcliffe has a most beautiful friend staying with her with whom we all fall in love at first sight. Some of us fall out again and some of us don't. Hunt-Goring--presumably--belongs to the latter category." "And you?" asked Sir Kersley. "Oh, I am too busy for frivolities of that sort," said Max. "My mind is entirely occupied with drugs. Ask Miss Ratcliffe if it isn't!" Olga looked a little scornful. It suddenly seemed to her that Max Wyndham required a snub. She was spared the trouble of administering one, however, by the reappearance of the housemaid. She rose. "Do you want me, Ellen?" "Oh, no, miss. It's all right," was Ellen's breezy reply. "I only just come to say as it was Dr. Wyndham as brought in them raspberries--early this morning." Ellen disappeared as Max popped the cork of a soda-water bottle with unexpected violence. He clapped his hand over the top and carried it bubbling to the window. "Awfully sorry," he said. "The beastly stuff is so up this weather." Olga followed him with his glass. "Thank you for rescuing my raspberries," she said. Max rubbed himself down with a handkerchief and took the glass from her. He was somewhat red in the face. He looked at her with a queer smile. "Confound that girl!" he said. "Have you discovered any specially beneficial properties In raspberries?" asked Sir Kersley in the tone of one seeking information. "Not yet. I'm experimenting," said Max. And Olga laughed, though she could scarcely have said why. "There goes Nick, escorting the undesirable," observed Max, a moment later. "I begin to think there really must be a spark of genius in that little uncle of yours. Hunt-Goring looks as if he had been kicked, while the swagger of Five Foot Nothing defies description. Ah! And here comes Miss Campion! She looks as if--" He broke off short.