"A."

He put the letter back in the untorn envelope and carefully fastened it
up again. He then placed it on the mantelpiece, and having finished his
breakfast, lit a cigarette.

He looked thoughtful.

"Algie Thynne, indeed!" he said to himself. "How pathetic, trying to
make me jealous! Well, it's a pretty letter, and what's more, it must be
answered."

Val came back.

"Romer wants the lawn mown," she said. "He's perfectly mad on the
subject of mowing the lawn. He seems to think it ought to be shaved
every day. It's the only thing he knows about the country. Well, have
you read your letter?"

"There it is," said Harry. "You can read it if you like." He watched her
carefully as she took it from the mantelpiece.

"I don't want to read it," she said, holding it.

"Nor do I," said Harry.

"Harry, tell me honestly, wouldn't you really mind if I tore it into
little bits and put it in the waste-paper basket--just as it is?"

"Not a straw," said Harry, shaking his head.

She clapped her hands, tore it into tiny pieces, and threw it in the
basket. Then she said, in a low voice of deep gratitude--

"Oh, Harry, you are sweet! Do forgive me."

"I don't see that there's anything to forgive," said Harry.

"Yes, there is; lots. I'm afraid I've been horrid. I'll never bother you
about any thing again."

She was simply beaming.

"Good," answered Harry indifferently.

But as he followed her into the garden he looked rather perplexed. He
felt that this sort of thing was not leading up very well to what he
would have to tell her soon. However, why spoil a lovely day by thinking
of it?

Like a schoolboy with his holiday task before him, he put it off as long
as possible.

Though he didn't own it to himself, and was disdainfully amused at
Alec's letter, still the thought of Algie Thynne, moonlight nights on
the yacht, topping weather, and his own neglect, gave him some cause for
alarm. Algie Thynne was _crible_ with debts, and probably keen on
marrying for money. Contemptible young ass! Why didn't he _work_? Harry
despised him.

At the earliest opportunity (which, by the way, did not arise until he
had made an excuse to go into the village, where he wrote at the post
office) the answer was sent.

Even Harry found the beginning of the letter too difficult, so he always
began (as Valentia might have said) without a beginning, which impressed
Miss Walmer much more. Ever since he had re