"You tell me I speak good English," said Adele.

"So you do."

"Well, I don't want to spoil my record. What's the Anglo-Saxon for 'a thaw-proof nerve '?"

"Can't be done," said I. "But I can put your mouth into Italian. _Bocca bella carissima._ Now, isn't that nice?"

The sweet pretty lips began to tremble with laughter.

"You're incorrigible," she announced. "Fifteen long months, and you haven't changed a bit."

"Long months, Adele?"

The soft rose of her cheeks was glowing as she turned to reply.

"The longest I've ever spent," she said softly. "That--that's the worst of cutting your hair. I thought it was never going to grow."

"They've been very long ones for me, Adele."

Up went the delicate eyebrows.

"Have they?"

I nodded.

"A close scrutiny will reveal that my hair, once a rich mud colour, is now flecked with grey."

"I should attribute that to the march of Time."

I shook my head.

"The responsibility," I said, "rests with the United States of America.

Seriously, I missed you terribly."

"That," said Adele, "I refuse to believe. If you had, you would have paid us a visit."

"I was not invited."

Adele shrugged her shoulders.

"Any old way," she announced, "I'm here now. And, while we're on the subject of hair, please remember that since you last saw me, I've put mine up."

"Which means?"

"That I am a dangerous woman of the world, who gives nothing and takes everything--with a grain of salt. I warn you, I've changed."

"Unquestionably," said I, "you have had a violent love-affair. That is as plain as is the dainty nose upon your charming face."

Adele regarded me with a dazzling smile.

"I forgot," she said, "that I was addressing an expert. Tell me, d'you think I shall get over it?"

"If you don't," said I, "it shan't be my fault."

"You're very good."

"Not at all," said I. "Can you spell 'h.o.m.oeopathy'?"

For a man who had just parted with the home of his fathers, poor old Sir Anthony was in high spirits. Lock, stock and barrel, Merry Down had been sold to the highest bidder. Of that there was no manner of doubt. What was more to the point was that the purchaser, who had paid a good price, was of English blood, and had known Derry Bagot at Eton, and soldiered with him first in South Africa and afterwards in France. The place had pa.s.sed into good clean hands and was to be well cared for.

"A very civil fellow," said Sir Anthony, whom we had brought back to White Ladies to tea, "and a sportsman. I'm truly thankful. Spoke so nicely of Derry--said he'd always looked up to him and he was proud to think he was to carry on his--his home." His voice faltered, and something of the old stricken look hung for an instant in the keen grey eyes. The next moment it was ousted by the flash of victory, and they were bent upon me. "So you deported the alien to Ramilly? Gad, but I'd 've liked to see the terrier bring him down."

As he spoke there was the noise of a familiar scamper, and a moment later n.o.bby had hurled himself across the terrace into my lap and was licking my face with an enthusiastic violence which could not have been more p.r.o.nounced if he had not seen me for years.

And in his wake came Berry.

I had told Sir Anthony that, if he desired to thank any one, he must thank my brother-in-law, because, but for the latter's quick wit. Merry Down would have fallen into the enemy's hands. But, when the old baronet had clapped him upon the back, Berry nodded at me.

"I believe," he said, "I was the first to conceive the felony. That comes of being a magistrate. But that's the merchant who carried it out.

Largely at my expense, I admit. But that's a matter for him and me to settle. I tell you, Sir Anthony, you must thank him--and the--er--h.e.l.l-hound. A more masterly display of devilry I never witnessed." He sank into a chair. "Let refreshment be brought me."

Daphne blew him a kiss.

"One moment, old chap. Did the servants see you come in?"

Her husband nodded.

"Then there'll be some fresh tea in a moment. And now, what happened?

We're simply wild to hear."

"Yes," cried Jill eagerly. "And did you really call him 'Stunkenblotch'?

And what happened to his boot? And where----"

"The last thing we saw," said Adele, "was the fellow get up and go for n.o.bby. You were sitting by the side of the road."

"And before you begin," said I, "let me say that I wouldn't have left you, brother, if I could have thought of any other way out. But it seemed the only thing to do."

Berry put up his hand.

"Strange as it may seem," he said, "for once I don't blame you. If I hadn't been so weak with laughter I might have boarded the car, but it was then or never. I didn't expect you to wait."

"How did you get on?"

"I fear," said Berry, "that Mr. Dunkelsbaum did expect the car to be waiting at the top of the hill. What he said when he found that the road, which we could see for about five furlongs, was unoccupied, I shall try to forget. Suffice it that he perspired with great freedom, and for a long time appeared to be afflicted with an impediment in his speech. Occasionally he addressed me in Patagonian, but since the only words I could remember were _schloss_, _ausgang_ and _bahnhof_, my replies, judging from their reception, were unsatisfactory and sometimes, I grieve to think, even irrelevant.

"Presently I suggested that we should return for his boot. For this he sought, whilst I detained n.o.bby. I had recommended that the latter's services should be employed in the search, but the bare suggestion provoked such a shocking outburst of profanity that I said no more.