this is Duncan," said Simpson, and the shrill roar of the bear
rang out once more.

Myra, her mouth firm, but smiles in her eyes, looked down lovingly at
him. Sometimes I think that she would like to be Simpson's mother.
Perhaps, when we are married, we might adopt him.

"For baby?" she said, stroking it with her whip. "But he won't be
allowed to take it into church with him, you know. No, Thomas, I won't
have the luggage next to me; I want some one to talk to. You come."

Inside the wagonette Simpson squeaked his bear at intervals, while I
tried to prepare him for his coming introduction to his godson. Having
known the baby for nearly a week, and being to some extent in Myra's
confidence, I felt quite the family man beside Simpson.

"You must try not to be disappointed with his looks," I said. "Anyway,
don't let Dahlia think you are. And if you want to do the right thing
say that he's just like Archie. Archie doesn't mind this for some
reason."

"Is he tall for his age?"

"Samuel, pull yourself together. He isn't tall at all. If he is anything
he is long, but how long only those can say who have seen him in his
bath. You do realize that he is only a month old?"

"My dear old boy, of course. One can't expect much from him. I suppose
he isn't even toddling about yet?"

"No--no. Not actually toddling."

"Well, we can teach him later on. And I'm going to have a lot of fun
with him. I shall show him my watch--babies always love that."

There was a sudden laugh from the front, which changed just a little too
late into a cough. The fact is I had bet Myra a new golf-ball that
Simpson would show the baby his watch within two minutes of meeting him.
Of course, it wasn't a certainty yet, but I thought there would be no
harm in mentioning the make of ball I preferred. So I changed the
conversation subtly to golf.

Amidst loud roars from the bear we drove up to the house and were
greeted by Archie.

"Hallo, Thomas! how are you? Hallo, Simpson! Good heavens! I know that
face. Introduce me, Samuel."

"This is Duncan. I brought him down for your boy to play with."

"Duncan, of course. The boy will love it. He's tired of me already. He
proposes to meet his godfathers at four p.m. precisely. So you'll have
nearly three hours to think of something genial to say to him."

We spent the last of the three hours playing tennis, and at four p.m.
precisely the introduction took place. By great good luck Duncan was
absent; Sim