gh the ordinary exercise of their religion, they have, owing
to their absurd Protestant beliefs, to pay me through the nose for
providing them with a scientific instead of a sacerdotal confessional
box."

Nevertheless, the hard work was beginning to tell, and as he waited for
St. Maur and recalled the circumstances of Mrs. Delarayne's visit, it
struck him that it would not be unwise to avail himself of that lady's
need of him in order perhaps to take a short holiday.

Truth to tell, he was a little satiated with Society's nervous wrecks.
You cannot hold your nose for long over any kind of smoke without being
nauseated; but the fumes which men and women have tried to consume
themselves, and failed, have this peculiarity, that they are perhaps
more foetid, more unsavoury, more asphyxiating, than any that can be
produced by the combustion of the most obnoxious and malodorous
chemicals.

St. Maur observed his friend's condition as he entered the room.

"Hard day?" he enquired.

"Very."

"I thought so. Cheques have been coming in pretty plentifully too. Any
celebrities?"

"One M.P. and one Canon,--the rest ordinary, or rather extraordinary men
and women. But don't let us talk about it; my stomach's turned as it
is. I'm going to take a few days' holiday, Aubrey."

St. Maur in his astonishment had to sit down.

"Mrs. Delarayne has just been here. Her daughter seems to be an
interesting case of self-surrender and inversion of reproductive
instinct owing to repeated rebuffs. She is now at the self-immolating
stage. Rather dangerous. Falls about. Her knees give way. Might cut her
head open. Great struggle for supremacy apparently with flapper sister.
Both passionate girls, of course. Only thrown up sponge after hard and
unsuccessful fight. Local doctor orders iron, quinine, and strychnine.
It's a wonder he didn't order brimstone and treacle. Mother doesn't
understand the condition at all, but is sufficiently wise to suspect
that the behaviour of a certain young man with fascinating flapper
sister may be contributory."

"Can't she come here?" asked St. Maur.

"Well, she could. But it is one of those cases in which, if I want to do
any real good, I must watch conditions on the spot."

"When do you leave?"

"In an hour or two. The car's coming to fetch me."

He rose, looked down with grave disapproval at his baggy trousers, and
flicked a speck or two of dust from his jacket.

"Aubrey, dear boy, I want you to make