"That's much better," I said. "Now make it come from the laburnum,
Lieutenant."
"I'm not doing it, really!" she said. "At least only the first time."
"CUCK-OO," said somebody from the apple tree again.
There was no doubt about it. I let my deck-chair down a rung and prepared to welcome the summer.
"Now," I said, "we're off."
EPILOGUE
You may believe this or not as you like. Personally I don't know what to think. It happened on the first day of spring (do you remember it? A wonderful day), and on the first of spring all sorts of enchantments may happen.
I was writing my weekly story: one of those things with a He and a She in it. He was Reginald, a fine figure of a man. She was Dorothy, rather a dear. I was beginning in a roundabout sort of way with the weather, and the scenery, and the birds, and how Reginald was thinking of the spring, and how his young fancy was lightly turning to thoughts of love, when suddenly—
At that moment I was called out of the room to speak to the housekeeper about something. In three minutes I was back again; and I had just dipped my pen in the ink, when there came a cough from the direction of the sofa—and there, as cool as you please, were sitting two persons entirely unknown to me….
"I beg your pardon," I said. "The housekeeper never told me. Whom have I the—what did you—"