The 'doubtful' element was rare and always incidental." Arthur told me a delightful story about her.

Her father was a testy old country gentleman, very irritable and obstinate.
It happened that an Eton boy was staying in the house, of the blundering lumpish type; he had had more than his share of luck in breaking windows and articles of furniture.

One morning Mr.B----, finding his study window broken, declared in a paroxysm of rage that the next thing he broke the boy should go.
That same afternoon, it happened he was playing at small cricket with Maud, and made a sharp cut into the great greenhouse.

There was a crash of glass, followed by Maud's ringing laugh.
They stopped their game, and went to discuss the position of events.
As they stood there, Mr.B----'s garden door, just round the corner, was heard to open and slam, and craunch, craunch, came his stately pace upon the gravel.
They stared with a humorous horror at one another.

In an instant, Maud caught up a lawn-tennis racquet that was near, and smashed the next pane to atoms.