"Of course," I said;  "the very thing. I've always been so good at tricks." 

 "I mean it," said Daphne. 

 "Of course you do. What about the confidence trick? Can any lady oblige me with a public-house?" 

 "She means trick-cycling, stupid," said Berry.  "Riding backwards on one wheel while you count the ball-bearings." 

 "Look here," I said, "if Berry could have come and smoked a cigarette, I wouldn't have minded trying to flick the ash off it with a hunting-whip." 

 "Pity about that golf," mused Berry.  "And you might have thrown knives round me afterwards. As it is, you'll have to recite." 

 In a few telling sentences I intimated that I would do nothing of the kind. 

 "I will appear," I said at last, "I will appear and run round generally, but I promise nothing more." 

 "Nonsense," said my sister.  "I have promised, and I'm not going to let you break my word. You are going to do something definite." 

 "Desperate?" 

 "Definite. You have three days in which to get ready. There's Jill calling me. We're going to run over to Barley to whip up the Ashton crowd. D'you think we've enough petrol?" 

 "I don't even care," said I. 

 Daphne laughed softly. Then: "I must go," she said, getting up.  "Give me a cigarette and tell me if you think this dress'll do. I'm going to change my shoes." 

 "If," said I, producing my cigarette-case, "if you were half as nice as you invariably look—" 

 "That's a dear," she said, taking a cigarette.  "And now, good-bye." 

 I watched her retreating figure gloomily. 

 Berry began to recite 'We are Seven.' 

 

 Thursday morning broke cloudless and brilliant. I saw it break. Reluctantly, of course; I am not in the habit of rising at cock-crow. But on this occasion I rose because I could not sleep. When I went to bed on Wednesday night, I lay awake thinking deeply about what I was to do on the morrow. Daphne had proved inexorable. My brain, usually so fertile, had become barren, and for 

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