help asking him what he would have done if he could have found the farmer who set the trap.  He looked up at me and I was almost frightened.  ’I should have killed him,’ he said,—­and I believe he meant it.  And, Francis, the very next day we were motoring to London and saw a terrible accident.  A motor bicyclist came down a side road at full speed and ran into a motor-lorry.  My father got out of the car, helped them lift the body from under the wheels of the lorry, and came back absolutely unmoved.  ‘Serve the silly young fool right!’ was his only remark.  He was so horribly callous that I could scarcely bear to sit by his side.  Do you understand that?”

“It isn’t easy,” he admitted.

There was a knock at the door.  Margaret glanced at the clock.

“Surely dinner can’t be served already!” she exclaimed.  “Come in.”

Very much to their surprise, it was Sir Timothy himself who entered.  He was in evening dress and wearing several orders, one of which Francis noted with surprise.

“My apologies,” he said.  “Hedges told me that there were cocktails here, and as I am on my way to a rather weary dinner, I thought I might inflict myself upon you for a moment.”

Margaret rose at once to her feet.

“I am a shocking hostess,” she declared.  “Hedges brought the things in twenty minutes ago.”

She took up the silver receptacle, shook it vigorously and filled three glasses.  Sir Timothy accepted his and bowed to them both.

“My best wishes,” he said.  “Really, when one comes to think of it, however much it may be against my inclinations I scarcely see how I shall be able to withhold my consent.  I believe that you both have at heart the flair for domesticity.  This little picture, and the thought of your tete-a-tete dinner, almost touches me.”

“Don’t make fun of us, father,” Margaret begged.  “Tell us where you are going in all that splendour?”

Sir Timothy shrugged his shoulders.

“A month or so ago,” he explained, “I was chosen to induct a scion of Royalty into the understanding of fighting as it is indulged in at the National Sporting Club.  This, I suppose, is my reward—­an invitation to something in the nature of a State dinner, which, to tell you the truth, I had forgotten until my secretary pointed it out to me this afternoon.  I have grave fears of being bored or of misbehaving myself.  I have, as Ledsam here knows, a distressing habit of truthfulness, especially to new acquaintances.  However, we must hope for the best.  By-the-bye, Ledsam, in case you should have forgotten, I have spoken to Hedges about the ’99 Cliquot.”

“Shall we see you here later?” Margaret asked, after Francis had murmured his thanks.

“I shall probably return direct to Hatch End,” Sir Timothy replied.  “There are various little matters down there which are interesting me just now preparations for my party.  Au revoir!  A delicious cocktail, but I am inclined to resent the Angostura.”