I walked towards the door. Dolly stood by the table fingering
the album. I had almost reached the door; then I happened to
look round.

"Mr. Carter!" said Dolly, as though a new idea had struck her.

"What is it, Lady Mickleham?"

"Well, you know, Mr. Carter, I--I shall try to forget that
mistake of yours."

"You're very kind, Lady Mickleham."

"But," said Dolly with a troubled smile, "I--I'm quite afraid I
shan't succeed, Mr. Carter."

After all, the smoking room is meant for smoking.



AN UNCOUNTED HOUR

We were standing, Lady Mickleham and I, at a door which led from
the morning room to the terrace at The Towers. I was on a visit
to the historic pile (by Vanbrugh--out of the money accumulated
by the third Earl--Paymaster to the Forces--temp. Queen Anne).
The morning room is a large room. Archie was somewhere in it.
Lady Mickleham held a jar containing pate de foie gras; from time
to time she dug a piece out with a fork and flung the morsel to a