t of
Brightening.

You might imagine that a Brightener was some sort of patent polisher for
stoves, metal, or even boots. But you would be mistaken. _I_ am the one
and only Brightener!

But this isn't what I was thinking about when I said, "Oh, that's it?" I
was attempting to track that benevolent female fox, Caroline Carstairs,
to the fastness of her mental lair. When I flattered myself that I'd
succeeded, I spoke again.

"I see what you'd be at, Madame Machiavelli," I warned her. "You and
your husband are so fed up with the son of your ancient loves, that he's
spoiling your holiday in your country house. You've been wondering how
on earth to shed him, anyhow for a breathing space, without being
unkind. So you thought, if you could lure him to London, and lend him
your flat----"

"Dearest, you are an ungrateful young Beastess! Besides, you're only
half right. It's true, poor Henry and I are worn out from sympathy. Our
hearts are squeezed sponges, and have completely collapsed. Not that
Terry complains. He doesn't. Only he is so horribly bored with life and
himself and us that it's killing all three. I _had_ to think of
something to save him. So I thought of you."

"But you thought of Sir Humphrey Hale. Surely, if there's any cure for
Mr.----"

"Captain----"

"Burns. Sir Humphrey can----"

"He can't. But I had to _use_ him with Terry. I couldn't say: 'Go live
in our flat and meet the Princess di Miramare. He would believe the
obvious thing, and be put off. You are to be thrown in as an extra: a
charming neighbour who, as a favour to me, will see that he's all right.
When you've got him interested--not in yourself, but in life--I shall
explain--or confess, whichever you choose to call it. He will then
realize that the fee for his cure ought to be yours, not Sir Humphrey's,
though naturally you couldn't accept one. Sir Humphrey has already told
me that, judging from the symptoms I've described, it seems a case
beyond doctor's skill. You know, Sir H---- has made his pile, and
doesn't have to tout for patients. But he's a good friend of Henry's and
mine."

"You have very strong faith in _me_!" I laughed.

"Not too strong," said she.

The Carstairs' servants had gone with them to the house near Haslemere;
but if Dame Caroline wanted a first-rate cook at a moment's notice, she
would wangle one even if there were only two in existence, and both
engaged. The shell-shock man had his own valet--an ex-soldier--so w