The Summons

ne in anything

dity all dissolved into froth, and that a new race of neurotics was born on Mafeking night. Just ninety-nine years before this Goodwood meeting, when Napoleon and the veterans of the Imperial Guard were knocking at the gates of Brussels, a fam

fect with sunlight and summer that it seemed some bird at last must break the silence of the famed beech-grove! All the world went to it. The motor-cars and the

n Graham's eyrie he met Sir C

uired Sir Chichester. "'The Dark Tower' is st

course," said Martin, his

ir Chichester. "You must stay with us for Goodwood.

d for her too, if they met this second time in a house of many visitors. He had no comfortable news to give to her, and he had shrunk from seeking her out in the Bayswater Road. Wrap t

," he said, "if I may co

The park ran down to the Midhurst Road, and when Hillyard was shown into the drawing-room he walked across to the window and looked ou

a girl rose with a

th, and make my home here with my aunt. They are all at G

was about eighteen years old, he guessed, very pretty, with a wealth of fair hair deepening into

n in Egypt, u

corrected. "I have been s

oot

him in frank disappointment. "The a

pointment in her voice. T

not pursue

were with Sir Chichester at the first performance of 'The Dark

face

s, I wa

she had a very different aspect in the stalls of the Rubicon Theatre. But he looked her

curled in disdain. She drew herself up to her full height-she was

likely to go to the ra

ced eye, seemed canvas. It spread about her on the ground, and it was high at the throat. A broad starched white collar,

eement, that suddenly all her youth rose into Joan Whitworth's face and got the better of her pose. She laughed a

e laughter

with a sigh. "I can smell the stables already," and s

mother-of-pearl buttons on his fawn-coloured overcoat than ever decorated

Millie, Mr

young couple two years married, and to Mr. Harold Jupp, a man of Hillyard's age. Harold Jupp was a queer-looking person with a long, thin, brown face, and a straight, wide mouth too close to a small pointed chin. Harold Jupp carried about with him a very aura of horses. Hors

without us? Aren't you bored w

nnihilating glance, and cros

n I have so many priceless

Millie Splay soothingly.

pressed by the girl's contempt. "Co

o Dennis Brown, as one c

ou had a

wins on form. But they weren't trying, Joan. The way Camomile wa

Sir Chichester. "You'll g

shook his he

. Jumping's the only thing fo

looked about

why you have all c

y as a picture, and spoke as a rule in a series of cha

ld go! And I know that I have bac

templated his wi

crazy," he cried

p agreed r

ry Plater. I sit at the feet of Miranda Brown, Joan, bu

ked calmly

alread

ed. At the end of it Dennis B

ge what we are goi

events, and from the other a little paper-covered volume called "Form at a

e with us, Joan," cried Harol

Society," Joan returned icily. But prid

ike a Plater," re

Brown was immerse

e is too easy,

It's sticking out a

n stared at

! Simon Jackson

nsulted his li

pounds. Petronella met Simon Jackson at even weights at Newcastle

e others," interrupted Miran

p read out

on Fire, Jemima Puddleduck--"

dleduck's g

t her, then both plunged th

is Brown read, "out of Si

ree!" cried Miran

kled his

hing. Why must she

the ineffable stupidity of the y

e! Jemima Puddledu

siness of spotting winners, through research into pedigrees, weights, records, the favourite distances and r

said Harold Jupp. "Jemim

pronounced than the butler, with his att

hone, sir," he said to Sir Chiches

nda breathlessly

wing

id I tell you? Chewing Gum. What were the odds, Harper?" Sh

ve to one. They s

own jumped

a hundred and

s sympathetic

rry Stakes this year, and Earthly Paradise, all out to win, was beaten a month ago by seven lengths at Warwick,

wrung he

e did win; didn

ied the butler with dignity. "I 'av veri

inking. Dennis was the fir

made you back

to the side of

m seriously inclined not to tell you. But I alwa

, it seemed, a religion tottered upon its foundations. Sacrilege

stammered feebly, "you

ned him out wi

But Miranda was not content with her triumph. She mus

have possessed you, Dennis, to b

n saw his o

ith the names of things

; Miranda looked as haughty as good-humour

ave you thought out your book to-day? Can you now begin to write it? Will you write i

Jupp. "Miranda has

ly occupied to waste his tim

s," he said gloomily. "I should dearly like

ll with a bundle of newspapers in his hands, pink and white and yellow and green. He carried them all relentlessly past Sir Chichester to the table in the window. Sir Chichester to a newspaper, was a nee

er in the garden; and half-way through the game Hi

ether I should meet

r ball before she answer

hall have to come back again. I di

only once.

Splay

rd, as I meant her to do. But she avoids Goodwood week and festivals generally, and she is wise. For though I would ta

e added, "I gathered from Mrs. Croyle tha

shrugged he

ins, more and more I see the case for compassion. Stella was hungry of heart, and she let the hunger take her. She had her blind, wild hour or two; she was a fool; she was-well, everything th

four croquet balls with her, went rou

d suddenly, in a voice of melancholy, s

ha

Joan Whitworth stood in full view in all her disfiguring panoply. Lady Splay wru

standing near to Harold Jupp and Dennis Brown, shifting from one fo

inished yet?" aske

hands together with a laugh, "and we

chester. "Then might

ed one over the table to him. "You haven't been

kly. He glanced with a swift and experienced ey

I have

course

as rapidly as the first, and th

Chichester with a resigned a

Splay l

is that his name is not to

rder to assuage any disappointment which might still be rankling in the baronet's bosom, Hillyar

ar away my name is known! Really

lyard sought to hide it, could not but peep out. Sir Chichester neither harboured illusions himself as to his import

to take trouble to keep myself in prin

an inquiring mind and was never satisfied b

I like it. Unless I see my name in real print every morning, I have

the exception of one person, laughed. To that one

oo. Just because I am not a public character, every reference to me must be of an exclusively personal kind. And that's just the sort of reference which the public eats. It is much more thrilled

ughed at Sir Chichester'

turned to

n who discovered this way of

suddenly

h his eyes on Millie Splay's face. "He wa

than to live in town. She knew little of what gossip might run the streets of London; and since Luttrell was, as yet, like Sir Chichester, in

of a set purpose. But one little movement of hers reassured him. Her eyes turned towards Jo

see us, when he comes back to Englan

ould have been better if Hillyard, that very night, had enlightened her. Bu