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CHAPTER ONE
At six thirteen am on a Friday morning Lucy Angkatell's big blue eyes opened upon another day and, as always, she was at once wide awake and began inunediately to deal with the problems conjured up by her incredibly active mind. Feeling urgently the need of consultation and conversation, and selecting for the purpose her yoimg cousin. Midge Hardcastle, who had arrived at The Hollow the night before. Lady Angkatell slipped quickly out of bed, threw a négligée round her still graceful shoulders, and went along the passage to Midge's room. Since she was a woman of disconcertingly rapid thought processes. Lady Angkatell, as was her invariable custom, commenced the conversation in her own mind, supplying Midge's answers out of her own fertile imagination.
TTie conversation was in full swing when Lady Angkatell flung open Midge's door.
And so, darling, you really must agree that the weekend is going to present difficulties!'
'Eh? Hwah!' Midge gnmted inarticulately, aroused thus abruptly from a satisfying and deep sleep.
Lady Angkatell crossed to the window, opening the shutters and jerking up the blind with a brisk movement, letting in the pale light of a September dawn.
'Birds!' she observed, peering with kindly pleasure through the pane. 'So sweet.'
'What?'
'Well, at any rate, the weather isn't going to present difficulties. It looks as though it has set in fine. That's something. Because if a lot of discordant personalities are boxed up indoors, I'm sure you will agree with me that it makes it ten times worse. Round games perhaps, and that would be like last year when I shall never forgive myself about poor
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