d Daphne, "I can't hear you because that fool Berry is
talking, but Boy's getting out an advertisement, and we're going to ...
Oh, are you? I thought you said you'd given it up ... Another nineteen
shillings' worth? Well, here's luck, anyway ... Yes, of course. But I
daren't hope ... Good-bye." She replaced the receiver and turned to me.
"Katharine's going to start advertising again."

"Is she?" I grunted. "Well, I'll bet she doesn't beat this. Listen.

_COOK, capable, experienced, is offered for three months abnormal wages,
every luxury and a leisurely existence: electric cooker: constant hot
water: kitchen-maid: separate bedroom: servants' hall: late breakfast:
town and country: followers welcomed.--Mrs. Pleydell, 7, Cholmondeley
Street, Mayfair: 'Phone, Mayfair 9999."_

"That's the style," said Berry. "Let me know when it's going to appear,
and I'll get a bedroom at the Club. When you've weeded the best out of
the first hundred thousand, I'll come back and give the casting vote."

From behind, my sister put her arms about my neck and laid her soft
cheek against mine.

"My dear," she murmured, "I daren't. Half the cooks in England would
leave their situations."

"So much the better," said I. "All's fair in love and war. I don't know
which this is, but we'll call it 'love' and chance it. Besides," I added
cunningly, "we must knock out Katharine."

The light of battle leapt into my sister's eyes. Looking at it from her
point of view, I realized that my judgment had been ill-considered.
Plainly it was not a question of love, but of war--"and that most
deadly." She drew her arms from my neck and stood upright.

"Couldn't you leave out my name and just put 'Box So-and-so'?"

I shook my head.

"That's so intangible. Besides, I think the telephone number's a great
wheeze." Thoughtfully she crossed to the fireplace and lighted a
cigarette. "I'll send it to-morrow," I said.

Suddenly the room was full of silvery laughter.

From Berry's side at the writing-table Jill looked up sparkling.

"Listen to this," she said, holding up the letter which my
brother-in-law had just completed.

_DEAR BROTHER,_

_Incompetent bungler though you are, and bitter as has been my
experience of your gaucherie in the past, I am once again about to prove
whether out of the dunghill of inefficiency which, with unconscious
humour, you style your 'mind' there can be coaxed a shred of reliability
and understanding._

_It is within you