"How COULD he avoid it?" asked the Lady Mary, with the faintest
shadow of scorn.

"It's certainly most unfortunate if he's going to be ill now," said
Mrs. Banghurst a little severely.

"He's not going to be ill," said the Lady Mary, and certainly
she had met Filmer's eye.

"YOU'LL be all right," said Banghurst, as they went towards the pavilion.
"All you want is a nip of brandy. It ought to be you, you know.
You'll be--you'd get it rough, you know, if you let another man--"

"Oh, I want to go," said Filmer. "I shall be all right. As a matter
of fact I'm almost inclined NOW--. No! I think I'll have that nip
of brandy first."

Banghurst took him into the little room and routed out an empty
decanter. He departed in search of a supply. He was gone perhaps
five minutes.

The history of those five minutes cannot be written. At intervals
Filmer's face could be seen by the people on the easternmost
of the stands erected for spectators, against the window pane
peering out, and then it would recede and fade. Banghurst vanished
shouting behind the grand stand, and presently the butler appeared
going pavilionward with a tray.

The apartment in which Filmer came to his last solution was a pleasant