TROUBLE FOR MR.

HAZLEWOOD When Dick and Stella walked along the drive to the lane Harold Hazlewood, who was radiant at the success of his dinner-party, turned to Robert Pettifer in the hall.
"Have a whisky-and-soda, Robert, before you go," he said.

He led the way back into the library.

Behind him walked the Pettifers, Robert ill-at-ease and wishing himself a hundred miles away, Margaret Pettifer boiling for battle.

Hazlewood himself dropped into an arm-chair.
"I am very glad that you came to-night, Margaret," he said boldly.