“I saw a rabbit at Silverside!” said Billy, “but do you know, Uncle Philip, that hunting pack of ours is no good!  Not one dog paid any attention to the rabbit though Drina and I did our best—­didn’t we, Drina?”

“You should have seen them,” murmured Eileen, leaning close to whisper to Selwyn; “the children had fits when the rabbit came hopping across the road out of the Hither Woods.  But the dogs all ran madly the other way, and I thought Billy would die of mortification.”

Nina stood up, waving a crumpet which she had just rescued from Winthrop.  “Hark!” she said, “there’s the nursery curfew!—­and not one wretched infant bathed!  Billy!  March bathward, my son!  Drina, sweetheart, take command.  Prune souffle for the obedient, dry bread for rebels!  Come, children!—­don’t let mother speak to you twice.”

“Let’s go down to the library,” said Eileen to Selwyn—­“you are dining with us, of course. . . .  What?  Yes, indeed, you are.  The idea of your attempting to escape to some dreadful club and talk man-talk all the evening when I have not begun to tell you what I did at Silverside!”

They left the nursery together and descended the stairs to the library.  Austin had just come in, and he looked up from his solitary cup of tea as they entered: 

“Hello, youngsters!  What conspiracy are you up to now?  I suppose you sniffed the tea and have come to deprive me.  By the way, Phil, I hear that you’ve sprung the trap on those Siowitha people.”

“Neergard has, I believe.”

“Well, isn’t it all one?”

“No, it is not!” retorted Selwyn so bluntly that Eileen turned from the window at a sound in his voice which she had never before heard.

“Oh!” Austin stared over his suspended teacup, then drained it.  “Trouble with our friend Julius?” he inquired.

“No trouble.  I merely severed my connection with him.”

“Ah!  When?”

“This morning.”

“In that case,” said Austin, laughing, “I’ve a job for you—­”

“No, old fellow; and thank you with all my heart.  I’ve half made up my mind to live on my income for a while and take up that Chaosite matter again—­”

“And blow yourself to smithereens!  Why spatter Nature thus?”

“No fear,” said Selwyn, laughing.  “And, if it promises anything, I may come to you for advice on how to start it commercially.”

“If it doesn’t start you heavenward you shall have my advice from a safe distance.  I’ll telegraph it,” said Austin.  “But, if it’s not personal, why on earth have you shaken Neergard?”

And Selwyn answered simply:  “I don’t like him.  That is the reason, Austin.”

The children from the head of the stairs were now shouting demands for their father; and Austin rose, pretending to grumble: 

“Those confounded kids!  A man is never permitted a moment to himself.  Is Nina up there, Eileen!  Oh, all right.  Excuses et cetera; I’ll be back pretty soon.  You’ll stay to dine, Phil?”