“No, exercisin’ Hoover. I’ll have the hide off that dog one day. He’s smashed a delphinium. Nearly took a gun to him. Barbara’s taken him out while my temper wears off.”

“I rather wanted some advice. When you were younger, sir, did you ever . . . well, I mean, did a lady ever get fonder of you than you were able to be of her?”

“Pretended they did, anyway. A woman’s always got to have somebody poodlin’ after her. In India the weather’s too hot, and the women haven’t enough to do. Makes for a lot of trouble.”

“But this is a busy woman, very busy, working all day and all night. The devil of it is she’s been so damned good to me. I suppose I’ve been a blind fool.”

“Gladys Batten. Do you mean to say you didn’t know she was in love with you? Why, the whole village has been havin’ bets on whether she’d bring it off.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me? Did Dick know?”

The colonel chuckled.

“Dick’s language about her wasn’t at all parliamentary. Doesn’t fancy her in the family.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“Not the sort of thing you talk about unless you’re asked. She said somethin’?”

“Yes. I feel the most damnable cad.”

“Poor girl!”

“The thing is, what’s the kindest thing I can do? She can’t stop on in the house.”

“Awkward managing without her.”

“That’s beside the point. It’s her that I’m thinking of. Mrs. Honeywell will manage until I get somebody.”

The colonel raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, you’ll get somebody else?” Mincing, stout and grey-haired, plodded across the lawn with a glass of milk on a tray. “Put that damn poison down and bring out the whisky and a siphon for Mr. Sheldon. Miller out?”

“Yes, sir. She and Jennings have gone to the wedding.”

“’Course. Sent up a couple of bottles of port for it. They’ll come back rollin’, shouldn’t wonder.”

Donald laughed.

“That’s a good picture. I sent beer, a cheque, and my daughter as a spectator.”

The colonel gave a disgusted look at his milk.

“Better give yourself a drink, Mincin’. Don’t want to be out of things.”

“Thank you, sir.” Mincing turned to Donald. “Two fingers, sir?”

The colonel sat up.

“Now, none of that. You bring out the decanter.”

“Not me, sir. I’m not having your death on my hands. As soon as my back’s turned you’ll have given the milk to that Hoover and yourself a whisky. I know you.”

“You bully of a woman, you do what you’re told.” Mincing shook her head.

“You can’t talk me into it. It’s been queer round the house lately, terrible lot of the people about.”

“I’ve heard ’em, but that’s got nothin’ to do with me and whisky.”