?"

"What note?"

"The one I left on the dining-room table."

"There was no note there."

"What!"

I was reminded of the scene that had taken place on the first day of
our visit.

"Feel in your pockets," I said.

"Why, damme, here it is!" he said in amazement.

"Of course. Where did you expect it would be? Was it important?"

"Why, it explained the whole thing."

"Then," I said, "I wish you would let me read it. A note like that
ought to be worth reading."

"It was telling you to sit tight and not worry about us going away--"

"That's good about worrying. You're a thoughtful chap, Ukridge."

"--because we should be back immediately."

"And what sent you up to town?"

"Why, we went to touch Millie's Aunt Elizabeth."

"Oh!" I said, a light shining on the darkness of my understanding.

"You remember Aunt Elizabeth? The old girl who wrote that letter."

"I know. She called you a gaby."

"And a guffin."

"Yes. I remember thinking her a shrewd and discriminating old lady,
with a great gift for character delineation. So you went to touch her?"

"That's it. We had to have more money. So I naturally thought of her.
Aunt Elizabeth isn't what you might call an admirer of mine--"

"Bless her for that."

"--but she's very fond of Millie, and would do anything if she's
allowed to chuck about a few home-truths before doing it. So we went
off together, looked her up at her house, stated our case, and
collected the stuff. Millie and I shared the work. She did the asking,
while I inquired after the rheumatism. She mentioned the figure that
would clear us; I patted the dog. Little beast! Got after me when I
wasn't looking and chewed my ankle!"

"Thank Heaven!"

"In the end Millie got the money, and I got the home-truths."

"Did she call you a gaby?"

"Twice. And a guffin three times."

"Your Aunt Elizabeth is beginning to fascinate me. She seems just the
sort of woman I would like. Well, you got the money?"

"Rather! And I'll tell you another thing, old horse. I scored heavily
at the end of the visit. She'd got to the quoting-proverbs stage by
that time. 'Ah, my dear,' she said to Millie. 'Marry in haste, repent
at leisure.' Millie stood up to her like a little brick. 'I'm afraid
that proverb doesn't apply to me, Aunt Elizabeth,' she said, 'because I
haven't repented!' What do you think of that, Laddie?"

"Of course, she _hasn't_ had much leisure lately," I agreed.

Ukridge's jaw dropped slightly.