‘You must admit he saved her bacon on more than one occasion.’ The earl rang the bell and when the butler answered it, he said, ‘Brum, fetch the telephone.’

‘My lord, that instrument does not detach from the study. It is necessary for one to go to the machine.’

‘Well, go to it and phone that Cathcart fellow and tell him to come here.’

‘It would be better to send a carriage for him,’ said Rose quickly, fearing that Miss Jubbles would take the call and not pass it on. ‘His office is in the Buckingham Palace Road. Number Twenty-five-A.’

‘Very well, jump to it,’ said the earl. ‘By Jove, do I see Madeira cake?’

Looking down from the window, Miss Jubbles saw the carriage with the crest on the panels drawing up outside and a liveried footman jumping down from the backstrap.

She heard footsteps on the stairs. The footman entered. ‘I am here to take Captain Cathcart to visit the Earl of Hadshire.’

Miss Jubbles’s heart beat hard. That girl again!

‘I am afraid,’ she announced in tones of stultifying gentility, ‘that Captain Cathcart is not here. He has gone abroad.’

‘And when is he expected back?’

‘He did not say.’

‘When he returns, tell him to contact his lordship immediately.’

‘Certainly.’

And then Miss Jubbles heard that familiar tread on the stairs. Harry had suffered a shrapnel wound during the Boer War, and on the bad days, walked with a pronounced limp, and this was one of the bad days.

He entered the office and paused in the doorway. He had recognized the earl’s carriage outside.

‘Captain Cathcart,’ cried the footman, who recognized Harry from his visits to the earl’s home. ‘Your secretary said you had gone abroad.’

Miss Jubbles’s face was red with mortification. ‘I am sorry, sir,’ she said. ‘When I said abroad, I meant abroad in London.’

‘That’s all right,’ said Harry. ‘But the earl is a client and an important one. You knew I was due back here late afternoon because I told you.’

‘I am so sorry. I forgot.’ And with that, Miss Jubbles burst into tears.

‘Don’t take on so,’ said Harry. ‘I have to pick up some papers from my desk. There’s nothing else for you to do this afternoon.’

He went through to his office. On his desk was a small vase of freesias, imported from the Channel Islands. He scowled down at them. They were expensive. He took some papers off his desk and walked out.

‘Miss Jubbles,’ he said gently, ‘I appreciate the flowers but they are much too expensive a gift. Please extract the amount from petty cash.’

‘Oh, sir, they were only a little present.’

‘Please do as you are told,’ ordered Harry, ‘and enter the amount in the petty-cash book.’

Tears rolled down Miss Jubbles’s cheeks. ‘Here,’ said Harry, handing her a large handkerchief. ‘Now, I must go.’