Except for a variation in the name the two letters were identical. Jeremy and Jane gazed at them frowning. Jeremy said,

“I don’t see what he’s getting at.”

“Perhaps he’s writing a family history.”

“Why should he?”

“I don’t know-people do. Let’s write our answers, then perhaps we’ll find out.”

His frown deepened.

“Look here, you’d better let me write.”

“Jeremy, how dull!”

“I didn’t want you to answer the advertisement.”

“I know-you said so.”

She jumped up and began to get out the tea-things-a dumpy Queen Anne teapot, two Worcester cups and saucers, one of them riveted, a dark blue lustre milk-jug, an engaging tea-caddy painted in pastoral scenes.

Jeremy said slowly, “What does he want?”

“A family reunion, darling-all our cousins. Perhaps some of them will be rays of sunshine. You are not doing much in that line, you know, my sweet.”

He came over to her and stood there in a very up-in-the-air kind of way.

“I think you had much better drop it. I’ll write if you like.”

Jane lifted her eyes. They held a definite sparkle.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me say, ‘How dull!’ ”

“Jane-”

“Well I’m saying it again-dull, dull, dull-ditchwater dull.” Then she stepped back and tapped a warning foot. “You wouldn’t like me to lose my temper, would you?”

“I don’t know-”

Dark lashes fell suddenly over the sparkling eyes. A little flush came up under the pale skin.

“I’m too tired.” Then, with a sudden change of manner, “Oh, Jeremy, don’t be a beast!”

CHAPTER 2

Jacob Taverner sat there, as thin as a monkey and with the same alert, malicious look.