Celia has more relations than would seem possible. I am gradually
getting to know some them by sight and a few more by name, but I still
make mistakes. The other day, for instance, she happened to say she was
going to a concert with Uncle Godfrey.

"Godfrey," I said, "Godfrey. No, don't tell me--I shall get it in a
moment. Godfrey ... Yes, that's it; he's the architect. He lives at
Liverpool, has five children, and sent us the asparagus-cooler as a
wedding present."

"No marks," said Celia.

"Then he's the unmarried one in Scotland who breeds terriers. I knew I
should get it."

"As a matter of fact he lives in London and breeds oratorios."

"It's the same idea. That was the one I meant. The great point is that I
placed him. Now give me another one." I leant forward eagerly.

"Well, I was just going to ask you--have you arranged anything about
Monday?"

"Monday," I said, "Monday. No, don't tell me--I shall get it in a
moment. Monday ... He's the one who---- Oh, you mean the day of the
week?"

"Who's a funny?" asked Celia of the teapot.

"Sorry; I really thought you meant another relation. What am I doing?
I'm playing golf if I can find somebody to play with."

"Well, ask Edward."

I could place Edward at once. Edward, I need hardly say, is Celia's
uncle; one of the ones I have not yet met. He married a very young aunt
of hers, not much older than Celia.

"But I don't know him," I said.

"It doesn't matter. Write and ask him to meet you at the golf club. I'm
sure he'd love to."

"Wouldn't he think it rather cool, this sudden attack from a perfectly
unknown nephew? I fancy the first step ought to come from uncle."

"But you're older than he is."

"True. It's rather a tricky point in etiquette. Well, I'll risk it."

This was the letter I sent to him:--

"MY DEAR UNCLE EDWARD,--Why haven't you written to me this term? I
have spent the five shillings you gave me when I came back; it was
awfully ripping of you to give it to me, but I have spent it now.
Are you coming down to see me this term? If you aren't you might
write to me; there is a post-office here where you can change postal
orders.

"What I really meant to say was, can you play golf with me on Monday
at Mudbury Hill? I am your new and favourite nephew, and it is quite
time we met. Be at the club-house at 2.30, if you can. I don't quite
know how we shall recognize each other, but the well-dressed man i