"During the spring of 1922 Mr. Gerald Moville came home from Argentina, where he was said to be engaged in cattle-rearing. He was the youngest son of Sir Timothy Moville, whose property adjoined that of Lord Crookhaven. His arrival caused quite a flutter in feminine hearts for miles around, for smart young men are scarce in those parts, and Gerald Moville was both good-looking and smart, a splendid dancer, a fine tennis and bridge player, and in fact, was possessed of the very qualities which young ladies of all classes admire, and which were so sadly lacking in the other young men of the neighbourhood. The fact that he had always been very wild, and that it was only through joining the Air Force at the beginning of the war that he escaped prosecution for some shady transaction in connection with a bridge club in London, did not seriously stand against him, at any rate with the ladies; the men, perhaps, cold-shouldered him at first, and he was not made an honorary member of the County Club at Richmond, but he was welcome at all the tea and garden parties, the dances, and the tennis matches throughout the North Riding, and in social matters it is, after all, the ladies who rule the roost. "The Movilles, moreover, were big people in the neighbourhood, whom nobody would have cared to offend. The eldest son was colonel commanding a smart regiment--I forget which; one daughter had married an eminent K.C., and the other was the wife of a bishop; so for the sake of the family, if for no other reason, Gerald Moville was accepted socially and his peccadilloes, of which it seems there were more than the one in connection with the bridge club, were conveniently forgotten. Besides which it was declared that he was now a reformed character. He had joined the Air Force quite early in the war, been a prisoner of the Germans until 1919, when he went out to Argentina, where he had made good, and where, it was said, he was making a huge fortune. This rumour also helped, no doubt, to make Gerald Moville popular, even though he himself had laughingly sworn on more than one occasion that he was not a marrying man: he was in love with too many girls ever to settle down with one. He certainly was a terrible flirt, and gave all the pretty girls of the neighbourhood a very good time; he had hired a smart little two-seater at Richmond, and motor-excursions, lunches at the Wheatsheaf at Reeth, jade earrings or wrist watches--the girls who were ready to flirt with him and to amuse him could get anything they wanted out of him.