My sister hesitated. Then—
"He'll never do it," she said. "I can suggest it, but, if he's anything of a cook, he'll go off the deep end at once."
"And give notice," said I. "Well, that's exactly what we want. Then we shan't have to fire him. He can just push off quietly to-morrow, Pauline will roll up on Monday, and everything will be lovely in the garden."
"That's it," said Berry. "If he consents, well and good. If he declines, so much the better. It's a blinkin' certainty. Whichever happens, we can't lose."
"All right," said Daphne. "I shall make Jonah tell him."
It took Jonah and M. François longer to satisfy the officers of His Majesty's Customs and Excise than we had anticipated, and I had consumed a much-needed whisky and soda and was on the way to the bathroom when I heard them arrive.
Before I had completed a leisurely toilet, it was all over.
As we waited in the lounge of the Carlton Grill for a table, which we had been too late to reserve, my sister related the circumstances which had led to the débâcle.
"The wretched little man didn't seem to take to the idea of starting in right away, but I explained that he needn't do any more than just run his eye over the menu, and that, as they were going to have the same dinner in the servants' hall, it really only amounted to looking after his own food.
"Then I sent for Falcon, explained things, and told him to look after the man this evening, and that I was making arrangements for him to stay with Fitch over the garage. Then I had Mrs. Chapel up."