But he was far from narrow-minded, and he took seven of her rooms for the coming term. They would be redecorated, of course, he explained, and an additional bath installed. With a little foresight he might yet make Malmaison Lodge a new and brighter Chequers. For when he had already engaged his rooms, he made an enchanting discovery. Behind the house there was a little lavender-garden, and at its centre a classic gazebo evocatory of the Age of Stucco, in the elegant decay of its caduke and lezarded pilasters, a _rocaille_ fountain, too, that had not played since poor long-dead demi-reps had received by its brink the libertines of the Regency, and round it three moss-clad Cupidons of lead, who must have watched unblushingly the dangerous dalliance of crinoline with pantaloon. These domestic preparations made a grateful break in a busy public life, and term came to an end almost before Gaveston had realized that November had slipped into December. But he caught the 8.37 to Paddington on December 10th. CHAPTER XII FUNAMBULESQUE Dinner-time on the 11th found Gaveston complaining about the half-baked condition of a _soufflé_ at the best hotel in Munich. He never did things by halves, and his Christmas Vacation was to be devoted entirely to the furtherance of _The Mongoose’s_ political aims. This trip abroad had been planned for some weeks, and the strictest Teutonic discipline had been enforced at every frontier-station to keep this most _incognito_ of journeys a secret. In his breast-pocket he carried a letter of introduction: for, although the editor of _The Mongoose_ was of course not unknown at the Bavarian Court, Gaveston knew the value of quickly establishing a personal relationship. He had been quick to consult Uncle Wilkinson. “Of course I’ll help you, m’ boy,” the veteran diplomat had said reassuringly. “I’ll give you a _lettre de créance_ that’ll let you have your _entrées_ without any _démarches_.” And he had. It seemed that once … an Australian soprano … a pearl … a very High Personage indeed … Regents-theater … _schön gemütlich_ … but, well, a little unpractical.… Nothing was ever divulged about what happened during the first three weeks of that vacation. Gaveston was always discreet. But Monty Wytham, spending a few days at Heidelberg, had been surprised to see his college friend passing through the station in a special train, with blinds partially drawn, and wearing in his button-hole a tiny rosette, like the _légion d’honneur_, but white. * * * * * There was no secrecy about the second half of that vacation. Gaveston knew he must now test the Great Heart of the People. Whatever his congenital tastes, he never forgot that he styled himself proletarist as well as legitimarian, and the famous University Hostel in Haggerston, E., was the scene of three adventurous weeks of social exploration.