Jaffery

being. I must say that I have been egged on to do so by my wife, of whom hereafter. A man of my somewhat urbane and dilettante temperament does not do these things without b

Tom Castleton, and others involved in the imbroglio, counted themselves as my bosom cronies, while she, poor wretch (a man must get home somewhere), was in the nursery; and that, finally, if she had been taught English grammar and spelling at school, she would have dispensed entirely with my pedantic assistance and written th

en will make only to a man, certain revelations likewise that women will make only to a man. On the other hand, a woman is told things by her sister women and her brother men which, but for her, would never reach a man's ears. So by combining t

eenery and colour was obscured by a human form. I may mention that my study-table is placed in the bay of a window, on the ground floor. It is a French window, opening on a terrace. Beyond the parapet of the terrace, the garden, with its apple and walnut trees, its beeches, its lawn, its beds of tulips, its lilac and laburnum and may and all sorts o

king cornflower blue eyes, and her mutinous mouth, which has never yet (after all these years) assumed a responsible parent's austerity. She wore a fresh white dres

urbing you

etal of spring, a quick incarnation of pink may and forget

," said I, "but i

ng?" She remained

ss," said I, "for the Grand Meeting

a, "why Hafiz always ma

d, waving a d

all you've

it is

d the end of my long oak table and took possession

at is it?

d the paper t

through the

ed Times," said I, with an indicatory gesture) She looked and sniffed-and shed Vallombrosa leaves of the Daily Telegraph ab

ed, "what do you

hat?" I asked, regard

ero has writ

uld ever surprise me. He might write a sonnet to a Royal Princess's first set of false teeth or steal t

novel. There's a whole column about it. They say it's the most as

ng," said I, kn

ice," said Barbara, thrusting the

el called "The Diamond Gate," which a usually sane and distinguished critic proclaimed to be a work o

id I, "this is somebod

the world are call

ands,"

in and tossed

traight away to Adrian a

residential address. But Hafiz eluded me, and Adrian occupied my thoughts. I took up the paper and read the review again; and the more

were other men, of course, on the fringe of the brotherhood, and each of us had our little separate circle; we did not form a mutual admiration society and advertise ourselves as a kind of exclusive, Athos, Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan swashbucklery; but, in a quiet way, we recognised our quadruple union of hearts, and talked amazing rubbish and committed unspeakable acts of lunacy and dreamed impossible dreams in a very delightful, and perhaps unsuspected, intimacy. We were now in our middle and late thirties-all sa

ary Freeth-well-I am a happy nonentity. I have a very mild scholarly taste which sufficient private means, accruing to me through my late father's acumen in buying a few founder's shares in a now colossal universal providing emporium, enable me to gratify. I am a harmless person of no account. But the other three mattered. They were definite-Jaffery, blatantly definite; Adrian Boldero, in his queer, silky way, incisively definite; Tom Castleton, romantically definite. And poor old Tom was dead. Dear, impossible, feckles

ourished, a comfortable cumberer of the earth; Jaffery was doing something idiotically desperate somewhere or the other-he was a war-correspondent by trade (as regular an employment as that of th

on. But after fourteen years or so he was making twopence halfpenny per annum at his profession. He made another three-farthings, say, by selling elegant verses to magazines. He dined out a great deal and spent much of his time a

rary. "I knew it was. He has had several other glori

adness. Now that I too knew it was

making good at last! I'm more than glad. Tel

o dine and stay the night. He said he had an engagem

s, especially with Adrian and Jaffery, who, ea

se me," said Barbara-for all the world as if I had invited

n minutes to persuading the dunderhead to leave the glass and establish himself firmly on the piece of paper that would waft him into the open air and sunlight. When I lost sight of him in the glad greenery I again came back to my work. But two minutes afterwards my little seven year old daughter, rather the worse for amateur gardening, and holding

d her for purposes of ablution. I once more returned

ught how delight

"I've more important

soft deliberation behind her and coming to my side-"if

?" sa

h a different intonat

e w

n, so as to manifest your superiority. She

whether your friends

bit,"

ecration of the forgotten cage of white mice, onto my manus

t school, although I was three years older. If it had

aving started on the path of crime we

the sad story of these two poor young things, and now, when th

hite mice, and now Doria, my morning's work is ruined. Let us go out into the garden and watc

alking sense,

nd discussed the formation n

ed nervously, proclaimed "The Diamond Gate" a masterpiece. The book had been only out a week-(we country mice knew nothing

g in first novels ever known. And though I say it as shouldn't, dear

the teeth below his well-trimmed moustache. He had conquered at last. He had put poor old Jaffery and fortune-favoured me in the shade. At one leap h

e's made,"

ave you sprung this surprise on us? I

pes. It's very simple. Besides, I like being a dark horse. It's exciting. Don't you remember how paralysed you all were wh

s University career had dazzled the whole of his acquaintance. B

s Doria

s one of those dapper, slim-built

insisted on his reading it. He's impressed. Never thought I had it i

your first thumping cheq

d was off his head with delight and if I had asked him to give me a bogus cheque for

e for this afternoon?" I asked, knowi

ocked. "Hilary!"

good humour. "He gave me a

ss Mr. Jornicroft

who cashed it, deductin

to your tailor with a cheque for a hundred pounds and said, `I want

cour

eque through your banking accou

things with an air. He stuffed my pockets with notes and gold-there has never been any one so all over mo

ve never had six suits of cloth

ention to my comfortable but old and deliberately unfashionabl

wn you'll order half-a-dozen suits and I'll come wi

go to him on my introduction-Good Lord!"-it seemed

flippancies of life, somewhat futile and frothy talk, unworthy of the author of "The Diamond Gate"

you oughtn't to allude to Doria's father a

ive Doria a farthing, won't hear of our marriage, and practically forbids m

ara, who is a brave little woman, "why

er. How can I allow her to rush to the martyrdom of marri

. Afterwards we can continue the discussion. In the meanwhile I'll order up

"A man with '89 Pol Roger in his

ked drily, "of asking Doria to

with his quick turn and smile, "t

ultivated taste to the appreciation of a now, alas! historical wine, under whose in

which I was afterwards drawn, but an odd coincidence all the same, that on passing from the dining room with Adrian to join Barbara in the dr

ognise the

ne. And"-he scanned the stamp and postmark-"fr

see!"

nd scanned it through

r Hi

I'm coming back soon. I hav

was hi

ast time I heard from him he was

ed my r

amount of work a man could get through. Anyhow-I'm coming back, with an

ian. "I knew he would come

aid I, an

d creatures like myself can stand Albania. I'm escorting her to England, so look out for us. How's everybody? Do you ever hear of Adrian? If so, col

ded the fellow

amic Widow. Love to Barba

's t

she was hopping about in a green jumper-Barbara woul

ow of a granite-built, iron-gated, portcullised

, Jaf

with the letter into the drawing room, he follow

e Jaffery. He te

s told us ever

hat and whence

s knows!

ng," retorted Barbara. "My own b

would a lone Brazilian fema

usband, of cours

ne feminine asseveration we bowed our heads