“And who was it?”

“How can I tell?  For goodness’ sake don’t go imitating father, Winnie! ...  Rather a dull man, I should say.  Rather like father, only not so old.  He had a beautiful necktie; I think it must have been made out of a strip of Joseph’s coat.”

Miss Ingate giggled at a high pitch, and Audrey responsively smiled.

“Oh dear!  Oh dear!” murmured Miss Ingate when her giggling was exhausted.  “How queer it is that a girl like you can’t keep your father in a good temper!”

“Father hates me to say funny things.  If I say anything funny he turns as black as ink—­and he takes care to keep gloomy all the rest of the day, too.  He never laughs.  Mother laughs now and then, but I never heard father laugh.  Oh yes, I did.  He laughed when the cat fell out of the bathroom window on to the lawn-roller.  He went quite red in the face with laughing....  I say, Miss Ingate, do you think father’s mad?”

“I shouldn’t think he’s what you call mad,” replied Miss Ingate judicially, with admirable sang-froid.  “I’ve known so many peculiar people in my time.  And you must remember, Audrey, this is a peculiar part of the world.”

“Well, I believe he’s mad, anyway.  I believe he’s got men on the brain, especially young men.  He’s growing worse.  Yesterday he told me I musn’t have the punt out on Mozewater this season unless he’s with me.  Fancy skiffing about with father!  He says I’m too old for that now.  So there you are.  The older I get the less I’m allowed to do.  I can’t go a walk, unless it’s an errand.  The pedal is off my bike, and father is much too cunning to have it repaired.  I can’t boat.  I’m never given any money.  He grumbles frightfully if I want any clothes, so I never want any.  That’s my latest dodge.  I’ve read every book in the house except the silly liturgical and legal things he’s always having from the London Library—­and I’ve read even some of those.  He won’t buy any new music.  Golf!  Ye gods, Winnie, you should hear him talk about ladies and golf!”

“I have,” said Miss Ingate.  “But it doesn’t ruffle me, because I don’t play.”

“But he plays with girls, and young girls, too, all the same.  He’s been caught in the act.  Ethel told me.  He little thinks I know.  He’d let me play if he could be the only man on the course.  He’s mad about me and men.  He never looks at me without thinking of all the boys in the district.”

“But he’s really very fond of you, Audrey.”

“Yes, I know,” said Audrey.  “He ought to keep me in the china cupboard.”

“Well, it’s a great problem.”

“He’s invented a beautiful new trick for keeping me in when he’s out.  I have to copy his beastly Society letters for him.”

“I see he’s got a new box,” observed Miss Ingate, glancing into the open cupboard in which stood the safe.  On the top of the safe were two japanned boxes, each lettered in white:  “The National Reformation Society.”  The uppermost box was freshly unpacked and shone with all the intact pride of virginity.