"
"Yours, Jerry?" said Diana kindly. "How's that? Give me a cigarette and
tell me what's gone wrong."
"What would Baroni say to your smoking?" queried Jerry, as he tendered
his case and held a match for her to light her cigarette.
"I'm not singing anywhere for a week," laughed Diana. "So this orgy is
quite legitimate." And she inhaled luxuriously. "Now, go on, Jerry,
what plans of yours have been upset?"
"Well"--Jerry reddened--"I wrote to my governor the other day. It--it
was to please Joan, you know."
Diana nodded, her grey eyes dancing.
"Of course," she said gravely, "I quite understand."
"And--and here's his answer!"
He opened his pocket-book, and extracting a letter from the bundle it
contained, handed it to Diana.
"You mean you want me to read this?"
"Please."
Diana unfolded it, and read the following terse communication:--
"Come home and bring the lady. Am fattening the calf.--Your affectionate
Father."
"Jerry, I should adore your father," said Diana, as she gave him back the
letter. "He must he a perfect gem amongst parents."
"He's not a bad old chap," acknowledged Jerry, as he replaced the
paternal invitation in his pocket-book. "But you see the difficulty? I
was going to ask Errington to give me a few days' leave, and I don't like
to bother him now that he has all this worry about Miss de Gervais on his
hands.
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