bove the cheek-bones was noble; but the lower part
fell away to a mouth and chin which were amiable and undecided. At the
hour of Tabs' arrival, he was flinging up his hands and spluttering
impotently, an inexpert swimmer in the waters of adversity.

"My dear Lord Taborley! My dear fellow!" The moment he discovered his
guest in the doorway he came darting forward. "My dear boy, this is real
friendship. We missed you and wanted you so much.--So you're out of it
at last? I mean the khaki."

The little, wrinkled hand with its stubby fingers reached up timidly in
an attempt to pat the big breadth of shoulders.

"Yes, I'm out of it, Sir Tobias."

Tabs didn't want to be patted. He was impatient of polite evasions. He
foresaw that he was expected to spend the next five minutes in replying
to questions which required no answers--all this as a conventional
preface to a discussion of the delicate position of Adair and Maisie.
But Tabs had his own problem, and one question in particular about a hat
on the hall-table that he was burning to ask. They stood staring at each
other, the big, fair man and the worn version of Shakespeare, both
wondering how long it would be decorous to chatter before they clinched
with the vital topic.

"May as well sit down. There's time for a cigarette. Terry----" Sir
Tobias made a short-winded attempt to push a second arm-chair into place
beside the fire; Tabs achieved the desired end with one lurch of his
body. "Terry brought some one in to tea; he's not gone yet. They never
know when to go, these New Army fellows. Good at their job, they tell
me, but no polish. I suppose I oughtn't to say that--ungrateful of me!
But I'm sick of it all, the invasion of the classes, the women in
trousers, the beggars on horseback, the Jazz music. I want the old world
back--the womanly women, everybody labeled, and Beethoven."

He pushed the cigarette-box fretfully across to Tabs, having first
selected one for himself.

"Beethoven," he snorted, "that's what I want, and no bobbed hair and
everybody happily married."

"This New Army chap who's with Terry," Tabs paused to make his voice
unanxious and ordinary, "does she see much of him? Is she fond of him?"

"Fond of him!" The little man jerked round quickly. He was in a mood to
see the shadow of terror in the most far-fetched suggestion. "If I
thought she was, I should pack her off to Lady Dawn and keep her with
her until the fellow was dead or----"

"What's t