During the day the general made two abortive attempts to escape. On both occasions he tore his trousers and became so hopelessly mixed up in wire which scratched him if he moved a finger that he had to roar for his son to come and rescue him. Kenneth came, begging his father not to do it again as he would certainly hurt himself badly. The general wasted half an hour in swearing at him, then he subsided and went to lie down. No word passed his lips during the rest of the day.

The next day found the general in a mood of black depression. As far as he could see, Kenneth was thoroughly enjoying the simple life. He showed no signs of boredom, he was unfailingly thoughtful and polite towards his father. He did all the work of the cottage, and sang as he worked. With a little encouragement he would have conversed cheerfully with the general, but he did not receive any encouragement. He drove out to buy milk and eggs in the morning, punctiliously locking the gate behind him. It was during his absence that the general tried to escape. After lunch the general descended to coaxing, and found it useless. He snarled at his son for twenty minutes, and then went to pace up and down the clay-field outside. He returned to the attack at dinner, and smashed two cups and a plate. As they had only two cups, they had to drink out of glasses at breakfast on the following day. Tea in a glass broke the general. He made one more attempt to reduce his son to a sense of law and order, and failing, gave in—blasphemously.

Kenneth was overjoyed. He tried to wring his father’s hand and the general danced with rage. So Kenneth, realising that his father was hardly in the mood to forgive and forget, restrained himself.

“You’ll come at once to Ursula’s flat and tell her yourself?” he asked anxiously.

The general swallowed hard.

“Yes!” he swallowed again. “And I wish her joy of you!”

“We’ll be off in half-a-shake!” cried Kenneth. “It’s most awfully good of you, sir! But when you see her—”

The general made an indescribable noise, and Kenneth thought it wise to withdraw. He drove his car down to the village and sent an urgent telegram.

IV.

URSULA received the telegram just before one o’clock. She read it calmly, twice. She was a little surprised, but not much so. The telegram was evidently written in great excitement. It might even be termed puzzling.

“For the love of Mike get in whisky and Corona cigars for tea!—KENNETH.”

Ursula wasted no time searching for a hidden meaning. She knew Kenneth. She put on her hat and coat and sallied forth in search of whisky. Luckily, it was opening hour, and she had no difficulty in buying it. She then bought the requested cigars, and went home. She supposed that Kenneth would explain when he arrived. Obviously he was coming to tea. So she changed her frock, made the studio look very cosy, and put another log of wood on the fire.