At four o’clock her front-door bell rang violently. She went to open the door.

“Hallo, Ken! Where’ve you been all—”

She broke off, staring at the general. “Who—who—?”

“My father, Miss Fenton,” announced Kenneth proudly.

“W–won’t you—come in?” asked the astonished Ursula.

Her eyes wandered to a jagged rent in the general’s trousers, and widened.

Kenneth let his father into the studio. The general glared at Ursula.

“Are you Ursula Fenton?” he demanded.

Ursula nodded.

“Then you can marry my son!” snapped the general. “And I wish you joy of him!”

It seemed to Ursula that all was not as it should be between the general and his son. She looked from one to the other inquiringly.

“Bumptious puppy! Insufferable scoundrel!”

Ursula decided that she must take a hand. She pushed Kenneth before her into the kitchen.

“Wait there till I call you,” she told him. “And keep quiet. What on earth have you been doing?”

“Kidnapped him,” whispered Kenneth. “Got the cigars and the whisky?”

“Yes—no—go in!”

“I’m not going to leave you to tackle—”

“You’ll do what you’re told,” said Ursula severely, and shut the door on him.

She went back to the general, who was fuming before the fire, and laid a gentle hand on his arm.

“I don’t know what Kenneth’s done,” she said, “but I’m sure it’s something abominable. Please take off your coat and sit down.”

The general allowed her to extricate him from his overcoat. He sat down with a sigh of something approaching content.

“Abominable? I should say so! Scandalous! Iniquitous!”

“How dreadful!” Ursula was all sympathy. “Won’t you smoke?”

The general bounced up, and saw the extended box of cigars. He snatched one unceremoniously, and inspected it. Some of the blackness went out of his look. Ursula went in search of a glass and some soda-water. When she returned, she found the general smoking blissfully. By the time she had supplied him with a whisky-and-soda he was able to tell her the whole story.

To her everlasting credit, Ursula did not laugh. She was properly shocked and indignant. And the more indignant she became, the more lenient became the general. The cigar was taking effect. When he had embarked on his second drink, he began to look on the humorous side of the affair.

“Young devil!” he said. “Carrying me off like that! Brazen impudence!” He chuckled a little.

“I think it was perfectly disgraceful!” said Ursula.

“So it was,” he agreed. “But he’s mad, you know. Barbed-wire entanglements—young Bolshevik!”

“Well, it’s awfully decent of you to be so nice about it,” said Ursula.

“Made me come here to tell you myself, damn him!”

“But I am so glad you did come,” said Ursula. “I’ve so wanted to meet you.”

“Where is he?” he growled presently.

“In the kitchen,” answered Ursula. “I told him to stay there.”

A gleam came into the general’s eye.

“Told him, eh? And he obeyed you?”

“Of course,” said Ursula. “He’s nothing but a huge, mad baby!”