small white poodle which she had in her arms, “came back ten minutes after you left. He had just followed the mail man.”

Garland sat down on the step.

“But the Duke of Matterlane?”

“Oh,” said Mirabel, “he comes tomorrow. You must come right over and meet him.”

“Im afraid I can’t,” said Garland, rising feebly, “previous engagement.” He paused, smiled faintly and set off across the sultry moon-lit pavement.

Published in Newman News magazine (June 1913).