“Oh?” she said, not at all encouragingly. “Not platforms and things, I hope? We leave that to the tradespeople, here. Evening-dress and a red handkerchief--_you_ know! Are you only stopping, or do you belong? You might enter for my bumble-puppy tournament, next Thursday.” The pale young man looked regretful. “I’d love to, but I shan’t be here, worse luck! I’ve got to sing for a few people, that very day. I’m so sorry.” “Platforms and things, I’m afraid!” Dandy added, with a touch of mischief. “But a white handkerchief. That’s something, isn’t it?” Harriet looked puzzled. “But don’t you _do_ anything?” she inquired briskly. “What’s your handicap at golf? You look rather like a bank. _Are_ you a bank? Surely you do something besides _sing_?” Dandy opened her lips sharply, but Wiggie’s gentle gaze crossed her own, checking her. “I play draughts quite nicely,” he said thoughtfully; and Harriet snorted and gave him her shoulder. Dandy looked at the carpet. “Well, I can rake _you_ in, can’t I, Miss Shaw? Two bob entrance, grub provided. Helwise, I’m bringing Miss Shaw to practise on your pole! Mine’s being painted for the tournament. If Lanty or the scrape-up-behind man will play, we can have a foursome.” “Pleasure--of course--certainly!” Miss Lancaster responded, dragged from a demand for rummage. “Armer isn’t very safe, though. He _will_ play a sort of Aunt Sally, and it hurts. And Lancelot is very worried, just now. Some of his silly tenant-people are leaving, and he’s quite put out about it. You’d think he actually _cared_ when an old man began to fail, or his children turned out badly! I tell him they all look exactly alike to me, so I’m afraid I can t pretend to be very sympathetic.” “You mean the Ninekyrkes business?” Harriet asked. “It’s all over the place, of course, about young Whinnerah and Michael’s daughter. The girl’s been over-educated, that’s what’s wrong. Thinks herself too good for her own class. They sent for Lanty, didn’t they, to try and patch things up?” “Why, does he always lend a hand in the tenants’ love-affairs?” Hamer laughed. “That’s a big order, surely!” “Oh, they use him as a family iron to smooth out the creases!” Helwise sighed. “I have no doubt he talked to the girl like a Methuselah. He has no _joie de vivre_. People with no _joie de vivre_ are very depressing to live with. Oh, _thank_ you, dear Mr. Shaw! That will be a guinea each for the Protesters and the Rummage, half a guinea for the Paper Roses--it _was_ the Paper Roses, wasn’t it?--and, by the way, did I mention the Torn Tea-Cloths? Oh, you must really allow me to interest you in the Torn Tea-Cloths!” She had the money in her hand when Lanty was suddenly announced, and Hamer, following his accusing eyes, grasped the situation instantly.