ed to agree with
me that the political and social decay of our aristocracy is to some
extent to be traced to their excitability and lack of self-control. By
way of demonstrating my own calm, I laid the envelope down beside my
plate and refrained from opening it until I had finished the kidney I
was eating at the time. The letter, when I did read it, turned out to be
quite as hysterical as the manner of its arrival. Thormanby summoned me
to his presence--there is no other way of describing the style in which
he wrote--and ordered me to start immediately.

"I can't imagine what has gone wrong," I said. "Do you think that Miss
Battersby can have gone suddenly mad and assaulted one of the girls with
a battle axe?"

"It is far more likely that Lalage has done something," said my mother.

"After her promise to you what could she have done?"

"She might have kept it."

I thought this over and got a grip on the meaning by degrees.

"You mean," I said, "that she has appealed to my uncle on some point
about the Archdeacon's qualifications."

"Exactly."

"But that wouldn't upset him so much."

"It depends on what the point is."

"She's extraordinarily ingenious," I said. "Perhaps I'd better go over
to Thormanby Park and see."

"Finish your breakfast," said my mother. "I'll order the trap for you."

I arrived at Thormanby Park shortly after ten o'clock. The door was
opened to me by Miss Battersby. She confessed that she had been watching
for me from the window of the morning room which looks out over the
drive. She squeezed my hand when greeting me and held it so long that
I was sure she was suffering from some acute anxiety. She also spoke
breathlessly, in a sort of gasping whisper, as if she had been running
hard. She had not, of course, run at all. The gasps were due to
excitement and agony.

"I'm so glad you've come," she said. "I knew you would. Lord Thormanby
is waiting for you in the library. I do hope you won't say anything to
make it worse. You'll try not to, won't you?"

I gathered from this that it, whatever it was, must be very bad already.

"Lalage?" I said.

Miss Battersby nodded solemnly.

"My mother told me it must be that, before I started."

"If you could," said Miss Battersby persuasively, "and if you would----"

"I can and will," I said. "What is it?"

"I don't know. But I can't bear to think of poor little Lalage bearing
all the blame."

"I can't well take the blame," I said, "althoug