He seemed so nervous while dressing that Soames, the valet, to whom he
was a hero, ventured respectfully to hope there was nothing wrong.

'No. I'm all right,' said Aylmer. 'I'm never ill. I think, Soames, I
shall probably die of middle age.'

He went out laughing, leaving the valet smiling coldly out of
politeness.

* * * * *

Soames never understood any kind of jest. He took himself and everyone
else seriously. But he already knew perfectly well that his master had
fallen in love last night, and he disapproved very strongly. He thought
all that sort of thing ought to be put a stop to.



CHAPTER VIII

Archie's Essay

'Mrs Ottley,' said Miss Townsend,' do you mind looking at this essay of
Archie's? I really don't know what to think of it. I think it shows
talent, except the spelling. But it's _very_ naughty of him to have
written what is at the end.'

Edith took the paper and read:

'TRAYS OF CHARACTER