"I was beaten at billiards by him last night," said Thomas proudly.
"He's going to let me call him by his Christian name."
"They say he's an awfully good chap when you know him," replied Thomas.
I got another wicket with the last ball of the over, and then we had lunch. Myra was smiling all over her face when we came in, but beyond a "Well bowled, Walter" (which I believe to be Brearley's name), would have nothing to do with me. Instead she seized Archie, and talked long and eagerly to him. And they both laughed a good deal.
"Arkwright," I heard Archie say at the end. "He's sure to be there, and would do it like a shot."
Like a wise captain Archie did not put me on after lunch, and Simpson soon began to have the tail in difficulties. Just after the eighth wicket fell a telegram came out. Archie took it and handed it to me. "From Maclaren, I expect," he said with a grin.
"You funny ass; I happen to know it's from Dick. I asked him for a wire about the Kent match."
"Oh, did Kent win?" said Archie, looking over my shoulder. As I opened it, the others came up, and I read—
"Please be in attendance for next Test Match."
"HAWKE"
I got three more that afternoon. One from Fry, one from Leveson-Gower, and one from Maclaren. They all came from Lord's, and I've half a mind to take my telegrams with me, and go. Then Myra would probably get six months in the second division.