"If it is Reggie Brasset," said she, renouncing the Daily Courier, "he has come about Mrs. Fitz."
"Get out!" said the scornful Jodey. "You people down here have got Mrs. Fitz on the brain."
Out of the mouths of babes! It was perfectly true that, in our own little corner of the world, people had got Mrs. Fitz on the brain.
CHAPTER II
TRIBULATIONS OF A M.F.H.
Brasset it certainly was. And when he came into the room looking delightfully healthy, decidedly handsome, and a great deal more serious than a minister of the Crown, his first words were to the effect that Morton had telephoned through to say that they had a foot of snow on the wolds and that hounds had better stay where they were.
"Awfully good of you, Brasset, to come and tell us," said I, heartily. "Have some breakfast?"
"No, thanks," said Brasset. "The fact is, as we are not going over to Morton's, I thought this would be a good opportunity to—to——"
For some reason the noble Master did not appear to know how to complete his sentence.