Clouds of Witness Ch 7 cont

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                “So that's how the matter stands, you see, Lord Peter,” said the Chief of Scotland Yard, rising from his desk with a friendly gesture of dismissal. “The man was undoubtedly seen at Marylebone on the Friday morning, and, though we have unfortunately lost him again for the moment, I have no doubt whatever that we shall lay hands on him before long. The delay has been due to the unfortunate illness of the porter Morrison, whose evidence has been so material. But we are wasting no time now.”

                “I'm sure I may leave it to you with every confidence, Sir Andrew,” replied Wimsey, cordially shaking hands. “I'm diggin' away too; between us we ought to get somethin'—you in your small corner and I in mine, as the hymn says—or is it a hymn? I remember readin' it in a book about missionaries when I was small. Did you want to be a missionary in your youth? I did. I think most kids do some time or another, which is odd, seein' how unsatisfactory most of us turn out.”

                “Meanwhile,” said Sir Andrew Mackenzie, “if you run across the man yourself, let us know. I would never deny your extraordinary good fortune, or it may be good judgment, in running across the criminals we may be wanting.”

                “If I catch the bloke,” said Lord Peter, “I'll come and shriek under your windows till you let me in, if it's the middle of the night and you in your little night-shirt. And talking of night-shirts reminds me that we hope to see you down at Denver one of these days, as soon as this business is over. Mother sends kind regards, of course.”

                “Thanks very much,” replied Sir Andrew. “I hope you feel that all is going well. I had Parker in here this morning to report, and he seemed a little dissatisfied.”

                “He's been doing a lot of ungrateful routine work,” said Wimsey, “and being altogether the fine, sound man he always is. He's been a damn good friend to me, Sir Andrew, and it's a real privilege to be allowed to work with him. Well, so long, Chief.”

                He found that his interview with Sir Andrew Mackenzie had taken up a couple of hours, and that it was nearly eight o'clock. He was just trying to make up his mind where to dine when he was accosted by a cheerful young woman with bobbed red hair, dressed in a short checked skirt, brilliant jumper, corduroy jacket, and a rakish green velvet tam-o'-shanter.

                “Surely,” said the young woman, extending a shapely, ungloved hand, “it's Lord Peter Wimsey. How're you? And how's Mary?”

                “B'Jove!” said Wimsey gallantly, “it's Miss Tarrant. How perfectly rippin' to see you again. Absolutely delightful. Thanks, Mary ain't as fit as she might be—worryin' about this murder business, y'know. You've heard that we're what the poor so kindly and tactfully call 'in trouble,' I expect, what?”

                “Yes, of course,” replied Miss Tarrant eagerly, “and, of course, as a good socialist, I can't help rejoicing rather when a peer gets taken up, because it does make him look so silly, you know, and the House of Lords is silly, isn't it?

Socialism is an economic system characterised by social ownership of the means of production and co-operative management of the economy, and a political philosophy advocating such a system. "Social ownership" may refer to cooperative enterprises, common ownership, state ownership, or citizen ownership of equity. There are many varieties of socialism and there is no single definition encapsulating all of them. They differ in the type of social ownership they advocate, the degree to which they rely on markets or planning, how management is to be organised within productive institutions, and the role of the state in constructing socialism.

A socialist economic system would consist of a system of production and distribution organized to directly satisfy economic demands and human needs, so that goods and services would be produced directly for use instead of for private profit driven by the accumulation of capital. Accounting would be based on physical quantities, a common physical magnitude, or a direct measure of labour-time in place of financial calculation.Distribution of output would be based on the principle of individual contribution.

As a political movement, socialism includes a diverse array of political philosophies, ranging from reformism to revolutionary socialism. Proponents of state socialism advocate the nationalisation of the means of production, distribution and exchange as a strategy for implementing socialism. In contrast, libertarian socialism proposes the traditional view of direct worker's control of the means of production and opposes the use of state power to achieve such an arrangement, opposing both parliamentary politics and state ownership over the means of production. Democratic socialism seeks to establish socialism through democratic processes and propagate its ideals within the context of a democratic system.

Modern socialism originated from an 18th-century intellectual and working class political movement that criticised the effects of industrialisation and private property on society. In the early 19th-century, "socialism" referred to any concern for the social problems of capitalism irrespective of the solutions to those problems. However, by the late 19th-century, "socialism" had come to signify opposition to capitalism and advocacy for an alternative system based on some form of social ownership.

Orthodox Marxists later considered scientific assessment and democratic planning to be critical elements of socialism. In the late 20th century, the term "socialist" has also been used by Third way social democrats to refer to an ethical political doctrine focusing on a common set of values emphasizing social cooperation, universal welfare, and equality. It is used in this way by Third Way proponent Anthony Giddens, who rejects conventional definitions and implementations of socialism.

The House of Lords is the upper house of the Parliament of the United Kingdom. Like the House of Commons, it meets in the Palace of Westminster.

The House of Lords is independent from, and complements the work of, the House of Commons; the Lords share responsibility for making laws and checking government action. Bills can be introduced into either the House of Lords or the House of Commons and members of the Lords may also take on roles as Government Ministers. The House of Lords has its own support services, separate from the Commons, including the House of Lords Library.

Unlike the elected House of Commons, most new members of the House of Lords are appointed. Membership of the House of Lords is made up of Lords Spiritual and Lords Temporal. There are currently 26 Lords Spiritual who sit in the Lords by virtue of their ecclesiastical role in the established Church of England. The Lords Temporal make up the rest of the membership; of these, the majority are life peers who are appointed by the Monarch on the advice of the Prime Minister, or on the advice of the House of Lords Appointments Commission.

Membership was once a right of birth to hereditary peers but, following a series of reforms, only 92 members (as of 1 July 2011) sitting by virtue of a hereditary peerage remain. The number of members is not fixed; as of 11 June 2012 the House of Lords has 775 members (not including 28 who are on leave of absence or are otherwise disqualified from sitting), unlike the House of Commons, which has a 650-seat fixed membership.

The House of Lords provides expertise and scrutinises bills that have been approved by the House of Commons. It regularly reviews and amends bills from the Commons. While the House of Lords is unable unilaterally to prevent bills passing into law (except in certain limited circumstances), its members can severely delay bills that they believe to be misguided and thereby force the government, the Commons, and the general public to reconsider their decisions. In this capacity, the Lords acts as constitutional safeguard that is independent from the electoral process and that can challenge the will of the people when the majority’s desires threaten key constitutional principles, human rights or rules of law. In other countries this role would often be performed by a Constitutional or Supreme Court, but the UK system's emphasis on parliamentary sovereignty—rather than judicial review—means that this function cannot be properly accomplished by the British court system as all judicial rulings can be overruled by parliament.

The Speech from the throne, often known as the Queen's Speech, is delivered from the House of Lords during the State Opening of Parliament. The House also has a minor Church of England role in that through the Lords Spiritual Church Measures must be tabled within the House.

                But, really, I'd rather it was anybody else's brother. Mary and I were such great friends, you know, and, of course, you do investigate things, don't you, not just live on your estates in the country and shoot birds? So I suppose that makes a difference.”

                “That's very kind of you,” said Peter. “If you can prevail upon yourself to overlook the misfortune of my birth and my other deficiencies, p'raps you would honor me by comin' along and havin' a bit of dinner somewhere, what?”

                “Oh, I'd have loved to,” cried Miss Tarrant, with enormous energy, “but I've promised to be at the club to-night. There's a meeting at nine. Mr. Coke—the Labour leader, you know—is going to make a speech about converting the Army and Navy to Communism.

The Labour Party is a centre-left political party in the United Kingdom, and one of the two main British political parties along with the Conservative Party. The Labour Party was founded in 1900 and overtook the Liberal Party in general elections during the early 1920s, forming minority governments under Ramsay MacDonald in 1924 and 1929–1931. The party was in a wartime coalition from 1940 to 1945, after which it formed a majority government under Clement Attlee. Labour was also in government from 1964 to 1970 under Harold Wilson and from 1974 to 1979, first under Wilson and then James Callaghan.

The Labour Party was last in national government between 1997 and 2010 under Tony Blair and Gordon Brown, beginning with a majority of 179, reduced to 167 in 2001 and 66 in 2005. Having won 258 seats in the 2010 general election, the party currently forms the Official Opposition in the Parliament of the United Kingdom. Labour has a minority government in the Welsh Assembly, is the main opposition party in the Scottish Parliament and has 13 MEPs in the European Parliament, sitting in the Socialists and Democrats group. The Labour Party is a member of the Socialist International and Party of European Socialists.

The Leader of the Labour Party is the most senior politician within the Labour Party in the United Kingdom.

The post of Leader of the Labour Party was officially created in 1922. Before this time, between when Labour MPs were first elected in 1906 and the election in 1922, when substantial gains were made, the post was known as Chairman of the Parliamentary Labour Party.

Unlike other British political party leaders, the Labour Leader does not have the power to dismiss or appoint their Deputy. Both the Leader and Deputy Leader are elected by an Alternative Vote system in an electoral college, with a third of the votes allocated to the Party's MPs and MEPs, a third to individual members of the Labour Party, and a third to individual members of all affiliated organisations, including socialist societies and trade unions.

When the Labour Party is in Opposition, as it currently is, the Leader of the Labour Party usually acts as the Leader of the Opposition, and chairs the Shadow Cabinet. Concordantly, when the Party is in Government, the Leader would usually become the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, First Lord of the Treasury and Minister for the Civil Service, as well as appointing the Cabinet.

In 1921, John Robert Clynes became the first Leader of the Labour Party to be born in England; prior to this, all Leaders had been born in Scotland. In 1924, Ramsay MacDonald became the first ever Labour Prime Minister, leading a minority administration. Clement Attlee would become the first Leader to lead a majority government in 1945. The first to be born in Wales was Neil Kinnock, who was elected in 1983. The most electorally successful Labour Leader to date is Tony Blair, who won three in 1997, 2001, both landslide victories, and 2005.

                We expect to be raided, and there's going to be a grand hunt for spies before we begin. But look here, do come along and dine with me there, and, if you like, I'll try to smuggle you in to the meeting, and you'll be seized and turned out. I suppose I oughtn't to have told you anything about it, because you ought to be a deadly enemy, but I can't really believe you're dangerous.”

                “I'm just an ordinary capitalist, I expect,” said Lord Peter, “highly obnoxious.”

                “Well, come to dinner, anyhow. I do so want to hear all the news.”

                Peter reflected that the dinner at the Soviet Club would be worse than execrable, and was just preparing an excuse when it occurred to him that Miss Tarrant might be able to tell him a good many of the things that he didn't know, and really ought to know, about his own sister.

The Soviet Club is an invention of Miss Sayers

                Accordingly, he altered his polite refusal into a polite acceptance, and, plunging after Miss Tarrant, was led at a reckless pace and by a series of grimy short cuts into Gerrard Street, where an orange door, flanked by windows with magenta curtains, sufficiently indicated the Soviet Club.

                The Soviet Club, being founded to accommodate free thinking rather than high living, had that curious amateur air which pervades all worldly institutions planned by unworldly people. Exactly why it made Lord Peter instantly think of mission teas he could not say, unless it was that all the members looked as though they cherished a purpose in life, and that the staff seemed rather sketchily trained and strongly in evidence.

I couldn’t find an exact definition for this, but presumably it has to do with missionaries,  holding teas as fund raisers.

Clouds of Witness ch 7 cont

                No more of an exciting nature was said until the omelette was disposed of, and Lady Mary comfortably settled on the chesterfield. She had by now recovered her poise. Looking at her, Parker noticed how her recent illness (however produced) had left its mark upon her. Her complexion had nothing of the brilliance which he remembered; she looked strained and white, with purple hollows under her eyes.

                “I am sorry I was so foolish just now, Mr. Parker,” she said, looking into his eyes with a charming frankness and confidence, “but I was dreadfully distressed, and I came up from Riddlesdale so hurriedly.”

                “Not at all,” said Parker meaninglessly. “Is there anything I can do in your brother's absence?”

                “I suppose you and Peter do everything together?”

                “I think I may say that neither of us knows anything about this investigation which he has not communicated to the other.”

                “If I tell you, it's the same thing?”

                “Exactly the same thing. If you can bring yourself to honor me with your confidence——”

                “Wait a minute, Mr. Parker. I'm in a difficult position. I don't quite know what I ought——Can you tell me just how far you've got—what you have discovered?”

                Mr. Parker was a little taken aback. Although the face of Lady Mary had been haunting his imagination ever since the inquest, and although the agitation of his feelings had risen to boiling-point during this romantic interview, the official instinct of caution had not wholly deserted him. Holding, as he did, proof of Lady Mary's complicity in the crime, whatever it was, he was not so far gone as to fling all his cards on the table.

                “I'm afraid,” he said, “that I can't quite tell you that. You see, so much of what we've got is only suspicion as yet. I might accidentally do great mischief to an innocent person.”

                “Ah! You definitely suspect somebody, then?”

                “Indefinitely would be a better word for it,” said Mr. Parker with a smile. “But if you have anything to tell us which may throw light on the matter, I beg you to speak. We may be suspecting a totally wrong person.”

                “I shouldn't be surprised,” said Lady Mary, with a sharp, nervous little laugh. Her hand strayed to the table and began pleating the orange envelope into folds. “What do you want to know?” she asked suddenly, with a change of tone. Parker was conscious of a new hardness in her manner—a something braced and rigid.

                He opened his note-book, and as he began his questioning his nervousness left him; the official reasserted himself.

                “You were in Paris last February?”

                Lady Mary assented.

                “Do you recollect going with Captain Cathcart—oh! by the way, you speak French, I presume?”

                “Yes, very fluently.”

                “As well as your brother—practically without accent?”

                “Quite as well. We always had French governesses as children, and mother was very particular about it.”

                “I see. Well, now, do you remember going with Captain Cathcart on February 6th to a jeweler's in the Rue de la Paix and buying, or his buying for you, a tortoiseshell comb set with diamonds and a diamond and platinum cat with emerald eyes?”

                He saw a lurking awareness come into the girl's eyes.

                “Is that the cat you have been making inquiries about in Riddlesdale?” she demanded.

                It being never worthwhile to deny the obvious, Parker replied “Yes.”

                “It was found in the shrubbery, wasn't it?”

                “Had you lost it? Or was it Cathcart's?”

                “If I said it was his——”

                “I should be ready to believe you. Was it his?”

                “No”—a long breath—“it was mine.”

                “When did you lose it?”

                “That night.”

                “Where?”

                “I suppose in the shrubbery. Wherever you found it. I didn't miss it till later.”

                “Is it the one you bought in Paris?”

                “Yes.”

                “Why did you say before that it was not yours?”

                “I was afraid.”

                “And now?”

                “I am going to speak the truth.”

                Parker looked at her again. She met his eye frankly, but there was a tenseness in her manner which showed that it had cost her something to make up her mind.

                “Very well,” said Parker, “we shall all be glad of that, for I think there were one or two points at the inquest on which you didn't tell the truth, weren't there?”

                “Yes.”

                “Do believe,” said Parker, “that I am sorry to have to ask these questions. The terrible position in which your brother is placed——”

                “In which I helped to place him.”

                “I don't say that.”

                “I do. I helped to put him in gaol. Don't say I didn't, because I did.”

“Well,” said Parker, “don't worry. There's plenty of time to put it all right again. Shall I go on?”

                “Yes.”

                “Well, now, Lady Mary, it wasn't true about hearing that shot at three o'clock was it?”

                “No.”

                “Did you hear the shot at all?”

                “Yes.”

                “When?”

                “At 11.50.”

                “What was it, then, Lady Mary, you hid behind the plants in the conservatory?”

                “I hid nothing there.”

                “And in the oak chest on the landing?”

                “My skirt.”

                “You went out—why?—to meet Cathcart?”

                “Yes.”

                “Who was the other man?”

                “What other man?”

                “The other man who was in the shrubbery. A tall, fair man dressed in a Burberry?”

                “There was no other man.”

                “Oh, pardon me, Lady Mary. We saw his footmarks all the way up from the shrubbery to the conservatory.”

                “It must have been some tramp. I know nothing about him.”

                “But we have proof that he was there—of what he did, and how he escaped. For heaven's sake, and your brother's sake, Lady Mary, tell us the truth—for that man in the Burberry was the man who shot Cathcart.”

                “No,” said the girl, with a white face, “that is impossible.”

                “Why impossible?”

                “I shot Denis Cathcart myself.”

Clouds of Witness Ch 7

CHAPTER VII

THE CLUB AND THE BULLET

“He is dead, and by my hand. It were better that I were dead myself, for the guilty wretch I am.”

Adventures of Sexton Blake

Sexton Blake is a fictional detective who appeared in many British comic strips and novels throughout the 20th century. He was described by Professor Jeffrey Richards on the BBC in The Radio Detectives in 2003 as "the poor man's Sherlock Holmes". Sexton Blake adventures appeared in a wide variety of British and international publications (in many languages) from 1893 to 1978, running to over 4,000 stories by some 200 different authors.

Blake was also the hero of numerous silent and sound films, radio serials and a 1960s ITV television series. Originally owned and published by Alfred Harmsworth, Blake's copyright transferred to the Harmsworth-owned Amalgamated Press and on to Fleetway Publications before residing with current owner IPC Media.

                Hour after hour Mr. Parker sat waiting for his friend's return. Again and again he went over the Riddlesdale Case, checking his notes here, amplifying them there, involving his tired brain in speculations of the most fantastic kind. He wandered about the room, taking down here and there a book from the shelves, strumming a few unskillful bars upon the piano, glancing through the weeklies, fidgeting restlessly. At length he selected a volume from the criminological section of the bookshelves, and forced himself to read with attention that most fascinating and dramatic of poison trials—the Seddon Case. Gradually the mystery gripped him, as it invariably did, and it was with a start of astonishment that he looked up at a long and vigorous whirring of the door-bell, to find that it was already long past midnight.

Frederick Henry Seddon (sometimes called Sedden) (1870 – 18 April 1912) was a British poisoner who was hanged in 1912 for murdering Eliza Mary Barrow.

In 1910 Seddon was a 40-year-old Superintendent of Collectors for a national insurance company. He and his wife, Margaret Ann, had five children. His father also lived with him. At one time Seddon had been a Freemason, being initiated into Liverpool's Stanley Lodge No. 1325 in 1901. He resigned a year later to move south. In 1905 he is named as a founding petitioner of Stephens Lodge No. 3089 at Bourne End, Buckinghamshire. He resigned from both Lodges in 1906.
In 1909, Seddon bought a fourteen-room house at 63 Tollington Park, near London's Finsbury Park area.He had an obsession with making money; he ran a second-hand clothes business in his wife's name and also speculated in real estate. At some stage he had the idea of duping money out of another person, so he and his wife advertised to let out the second floor of their London home. A near-neighbour, Eliza Mary Barrow, a 49 year-old eccentric spinster responded to this advertisement, moving in with her ward Ernest Grant, the ten-year-old nephew of her friend, on 26 July 1910. Previously she had shared lodgings with her cousin, Frank Vonderahe, but she hoped the new arrangement with Seddon would be cheaper.
Being easily led, and as keen on making money as Seddon was himself, Barrow was quickly persuaded by Seddon to sign over to him a controlling interest in all her savings and annuities, including £1,500 of India Stock, in return for which he would take care of her for the rest of her life, giving her a small annuity and allowing her to live in his home rent free. In August 1911, the Seddons, Barrow, and her young ward went on holiday together to Southend. On their return, Seddon's daughter Maggie was sent to buy a threepenny packet of flypaper from the local chemist. Shortly after, Barrow began to suffer from agonising stomach pains. The local doctor was called, who prescribed bismuth and morphine. On 9 September he visited her again, but by the following Monday her condition had deteriorated. However, she refused to go to hospital.
She improved slightly for a few days, but was confined to her bed where, on 13 September, she made a will, dictated to and executed by Seddon, and witnessed by his relatives. At 6:15 on the morning of 14 September, while being looked after by Mrs. Seddon, Barrow died. Seddon went to the doctor, who issued a death certificate without seeing the body, claiming that he was unable to attend due to overwork brought on by an epidemic current in the area at that time.
On September 15, Seddon went to the undertaker and arranged a cheap funeral, keeping the small commission for himself. Barrow's burial took place in a common burial plot, although her family had a vault in Islington. Seddon's later explanation for this was that Barrow's family had snubbed his daughter during an earlier visit and he was not prepared to allow his family to be treated in the same way again, and that if Barrow's family missed the funeral it might teach them better manners for the future. Immediately after the funeral the Seddon family left for Southend for a fortnight's holiday. Barrow's cousin, Frank Vonderahe, suspicious over the suddenness of the death and how quickly the funeral arrangements had been made, arrived to take over possession of her estate. However, Seddon informed him that nothing was left as he had paid the substantial funeral expenses and the cost of Ernest Grant's upkeep himself. The Vonderahe family then went to the police and voiced their suspicions. Barrow's body was exhumed on 15 November 1911, and an examination of it by Sir William Willicox, the senior Home Office specialist, and young pathologist Bernard Spilsbury, who had already made a name for himself in the Crippen case, discovered about two grains of arsenic

Seddon and his wife became the chief suspects in what was by now a murder inquiry. During their trial at the Old Bailey the prosecution, led by the Attorney General, Sir Rufus Issacs, proved that Margaret Seddon had previously bought a large amount of flypaper, which contained arsenic. The prosecution suggested that the poison used to kill Barrow had been obtained by soaking the flypaper in water. The renowned barrister Edward Marshall-Hall led for the defence. He strongly resisted all claims that Barrow had been poisoned, claiming instead that she had died by taking a medical preparation containing arsenic. Despite being advised against it by his Counsel, Seddon insisted on giving evidence in his own defence; it was claimed that he turned the jury against himself through his arrogant and condescending attitude. Certainly, his case was not helped by his ridiculous claim that Barrow might have drunk water from the dishes of flypaper that had been placed in her room to keep away the flies. Despite a fierce battle from the defence team the jury found him guilty. Margaret Seddon was acquitted of any involvement in the murder. Marshall Hall always maintained that Seddon would have been acquitted had he not insisted on giving evidence, and on at least one occasion used it as an example in warning a client of the risks of giving evidence in one's own defence.

A former Freemason, on being asked by the Clerk of the Court if he had anything to say as to why the sentence of death should not be passed against him, Seddon replied at length and appealed directly to the judge, Sir Thomas Townsend Bucknill, as a brother Mason and in the name of 'The Great Architect Of The Universe' to overturn the jury’s guilty verdict. According to some sources he gave the First Degree sign, according to others the Sign of Grief and Distress, begging for mercy. The judge, Mr Justice Bucknill, himself a prominent Freemason, is reported as having said, with some emotion:

    "It is not for me to harrow your feelings – try to make peace with your Maker. We both belong to the same Brotherhood, and though that can have no influence with me this is painful beyond words to have to say what I am saying, but our Brotherhood does not encourage crime, it condemns it."

Seddon being sentenced to death by Mr Justice Bucknill

Seddon replied that he had already made his peace with his Maker. Mr Justice Bucknill then pronounced the sentence of death. Bernard Spilsbury, who went on to become a famous pathologist and who gave evidence during the trial, was not yet involved in Freemasonry, and so the meaning of what had passed between Seddon and Bucknill was lost on him at the time. However, his colleagues who also provided forensic evidence were Masons, and they were aware of its significance.

Seddon was hanged by John Ellis and Thomas Pierrepoint at Pentonville Prison on 18 April 1912.

                His first thought was that Wimsey must have left his latchkey behind, and he was preparing a facetious greeting when the door opened—exactly as in the beginning of a Sherlock Holmes story—to admit a tall and beautiful young woman, in an extreme state of nervous agitation, with halo of golden hair, violet-blue eyes, and disordered apparel all complete; for as she threw back her heavy travelling-coat he observed that she wore evening dress, with light green silk stockings and heavy brogue shoes thickly covered with mud.

                “His lordship has not yet returned, my lady,” said Mr. Bunter, “but Mr. Parker is here waiting for him, and we are expecting him at any minute now. Will your ladyship take anything?”

                “No, no,” said the vision hastily, “nothing, thanks. I'll wait. Good evening, Mr. Parker. Where's Peter?”

                “He has been called out, Lady Mary,” said Parker. “I can't think why he isn't back yet. Do sit down.”

                “Where did he go?”

                “To Scotland Yard—but that was about six o'clock. I can't imagine——”

                Lady Mary made a gesture of despair.

                “I knew it. Oh, Mr. Parker, what am I to do?”

                Mr. Parker was speechless.

                “I must see Peter,” cried Lady Mary. “It's a matter of life and death. Can't you send for him?”

                “But I don't know where he is,” said Parker. “Please, Lady Mary——”

                “He's doing something dreadful—he's all wrong,” cried the young woman, wringing her hands with desperate vehemence. “I must see him—tell him——Oh! did anybody ever get into such dreadful trouble! I—oh!—--”

                Here the lady laughed loudly and burst into tears.

                “Lady Mary—I beg you—please don't,” cried Mr. Parker anxiously, with a strong feeling that he was being incompetent and rather ridiculous. “Please sit down. Drink a glass of wine. You'll be ill if you cry like that. If it is crying,” he added dubiously to himself. “It sounds like hiccups. Bunter!”

                Mr. Bunter was not far off. In fact, he was just outside the door with a small tray. With a respectful “Allow me, sir,” he stepped forward to the writhing Lady Mary and presented a small phial to her nose. The effect was startling. The patient gave two or three fearful whoops, and sat up, erect and furious.

                “How dare you, Bunter!” said Lady Mary. “Go away at once!”

                “Your ladyship had better take a drop of brandy,” said Mr. Bunter, replacing the stopper in the smelling-bottle, but not before Parker had caught the pungent reek of ammonia. “This is the 1800 Napoleon brandy, my lady. Please don't snort so, if I may make the suggestion. His lordship would be greatly distressed to think that any of it should be wasted. Did your ladyship dine on the way up? No? Most unwise, my lady, to undertake a long journey on a vacant interior. I will take the liberty of sending in an omelette for your ladyship. Perhaps you would like a little snack of something yourself, sir, as it is getting late?”

                “Anything you like,” said Mr. Parker, waving him off hurriedly. “Now, Lady Mary, you're feeling better, aren't you? Let me help you off with your coat.”