'Remember, Slater, if I am detained, that I am expecting the two gentlemen from the War Agricultural Committee at six, and Captain Mills of the Red Cross is coming to dine and sleep.

Ask Lady Chicksands to look after him in case I am late--and put those Tribunal papers in order for me, by the way.

I really must go properly into that Quaker man's case--horrid nuisance! I hope to be back in a couple of hours, but I can't be sure.

Hullo, Beryl! I thought you were out.' The speaker, Sir Henry Chicksands, already mounted on his cob outside his own front door, turned from his secretary, to whom he had been giving these directions, to see his only daughter hurrying through the inner hall with the evident intention of catching her father before he rode off.
She ran down the steps, but instead of speaking at once she began to stroke and pat his horse's neck, as though doubtful how to put what she had to say.
'Well, Beryl, what's the matter ?' said her father impatiently.

The girl, who was slender and delicate in build, raised her face to his.
'Are you--are you really going to Mannering, father ?' 'I am--worse luck!' 'You'll handle him gently, won't you ?' There was anxiety in the girl's voice.