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love to, if you think I could find them.'

    Kenelm, who guessed that Gavin's mocking references to his lameness masked his loathing of it, was not surprised that this well-meant piece of tactlessness met with the treatment he privately thought it deserved.

    'Does it seem to you a long way to my house? I thought it was only half a mile. Or are you thinking that my short leg pains me? Do let me set your mind at rest! It doesn't. You have been misled by my ungainliness.'

    He turned away, and went, with his uneven gait, to where his hostess was standing. Mavis said, sighing: 'I often think it does hurt him, you know.'

    'He has told you that it doesn't,' replied Kenelm, rather shortly.

    She brought her eyes to bear on his face. 'He's so plucky, isn't he? People don't realize what it must mean to him, or make allowances.'

    Kenelm felt that he was being reproved for insensibility, and obeyed, with relief, a summons from Mrs Haswell.

    3.

    By the time Gavin returned to The Cedars it was half past six, and the party was beginning to break up. Mrs Ainstable was the first to leave, driving home alone in her aged Austin, and very nearly running Gavin down as she came somewhat incautiously round the bend in the drive. She pulled up, calling out: 'So sorry! Did I frighten you?'

    'Yes, I gave myself up for dead' he replied, leaving the grass verge beside the shrubbery on which he had taken refuge, and approaching the car. 'And me a cripple! How could you?'

    'It's stupid to talk like that: you're not a cripple. You deserved to be frightened, anyway, for behaving so atrociously. You didn't take anyone in, you know, It was as plain as a pikestaff you didn't want to sit out with Mavis Warrenby. She is dull, of course. I can't think why very good people so often are. Why on earth didn't you pretend you had to go home early, and just leave?'

    'That would have looked as if I were not enjoying the party.'

    'Well, it would have been better than hatching up that quite incredible story about having to fetch a lot of unimportant papers for Bernard!' she said tartly.

    'You wrong me. May I hand over to you the proofs of my integrity?' he said, drawing a long, fat envelope from the inner pocket of his coat, and giving it to her, with his impish smile. 'Is the Squire still playing tennis?'

    'Yes. It's no use my waiting for him. He's going home the other way, so that he can look at what's been done in the new plantation. So foolish of him! He'll only wear himself out to no purpose. How insufferably hot it is!'

    'Is it? It doesn't seem so to me. Are you quite well, Mrs Ainstable?

    Well enough to be driving alone?'

    'Thank you, perfectly well! Is this your way of asking for a lift?'

    'No, I should be afraid,' he retorted.

    'Oh, don't be so silly!' she said, rather roughly putting the car into gear.

    He watched her sweep through the gates on to the lane, and walked on to rejoin the rest of the party.

    One of the sets had come to an end, and Delia Lindale, who had been playing in it, was taking leave of her hostess. Since it was past Rose-Veronica's bedtime, Mrs Haswell made no attempt to detain her. Her husband waved to her from the other court,' and she sped away through the gate into the public footpath.

    'I ought to be going too,' said Abby.

    'No, you oughtn't: I'm going to run you home,' said Charles.

    'Oh, rot! I can easily walk.'

    'You can do more: you can walk beautifully, but you aren't going to.'

    She laughed. 'You are an ass! Honestly, there's no need to get your car out just to run me that little distance.'

    'Of course not, and I shouldn't dream of doing so. I'm doing it for Mr Drybeck,' said Charles, with aplomb.

    'Really, that is very kind of you, my dear boy,' said Mr Drybeck. 'I am far from despising such a welcome offer. A most enjoyable game, that last.'

    'Well, if you're going to motor Abby and Mr Drybeck home, you could give the Major a lift too,' suggested Mrs Haswell. 'You won't mind waiting till the other game