“I really don’t think Mark wants us, you know,” said the Major.  Having played badly in the morning, he wanted to prove to himself in the afternoon that he was really better than that.  “With this brother of his coming, he’ll be only too glad to have us out of the way.”

“Of course he will, Major.”  This from Bill.  “You’d like to play, wouldn’t you, Miss Norris?”

Miss Norris looked doubtfully at the hostess.

“Of course, if you want to get back, dear, we mustn’t keep you here.  Besides, it’s so dull for you, not playing.”

“Just nine holes, mother,” pleaded Betty.

“The car could take you back, and you could tell them that we were having another round, and then it could come back for us,” said Bill brilliantly.

“It’s certainly much cooler here than I expected,” put in the Major.

Mrs. Calladine fell.  It was very pleasantly cool outside the golf-house, and of course Mark would be rather glad to have them out of the way.  So she consented to nine holes; and the match having ended all-square, and everybody having played much better than in the morning, they drove back to the Red House, very well pleased with themselves.

“Halo,” said Bill to himself, as they approached the house, “isn’t that old Tony?”

Antony was standing in front of the house, waiting for them.  Bill waved, and he waved back.  Then as the car drew up, Bill, who was in front with the chauffeur, jumped down and greeted him eagerly.

“Hallo, you madman, have you come to stay, or what?” He had a sudden idea.  “Don’t say you’re Mark Ablett’s long-lost brother from Australia, though I could quite believe it of you.”  He laughed boyishly.

“Hallo, Bill,” said Antony quietly.  “Will you introduce me?  I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”

Bill, rather sobered by this, introduced him.  The Major and Mrs. Calladine were on the near side of the car, and Antony spoke to them in a low voice.

“I’m afraid I’m going to give you rather a shock,” he said.  “Robert Ablett, Mr. Mark Ablett’s brother, has been killed.”  He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.  “In the house.”

“Good God!” said the Major.

“Do you mean that he has killed himself?” asked Mrs. Calladine.  “Just now?”

“It was about two hours ago.  I happened to come here,”—­he half-turned to Beverley and explained—­“I was coming to see you, Bill, and I arrived just after the—­the death.  Mr. Cayley and I found the body.  Mr. Cayley being busy just now—­there are police and doctors and so on in the house—­he asked me to tell you.  He says that no doubt you would prefer, the house-party having been broken up in this tragic way, to leave as soon as possible.”  He gave a pleasant apologetic little smile and went on, “I am putting it badly, but what he means, of course, is that you must consult your own feelings in the matter entirely, and please make your own arrangements about ordering the car for whatever train you wish to catch.  There is one this evening, I understand, which you could go by if you wished it.”