"Suits less magnificent have I many, O Master. But as for the hat called pot, or the spat, I have no knowledge of such. Nevertheless...."
"I see what it is," said Alf disgustedly. "It's just Eustace. 'E's mucked it again. We'll just 'ave to send for 'im an' tell 'im what sort of a rig-out we want. Pity 'e can't never get nothing right the first time, ain't it?"
He sat down on his diamond-studded coverlet and once again summoned his sorely tried familiar.
CHAPTER XI THE VICAR'S WIFE OUTRAGED
"Well, Julian," said Mrs. Davies in her most determined tones. "I think it's your plain duty to call at once."
The Vicar of Denmore sighed, and laid down his paper on the breakfast-table.
"But, my dear," he protested mildly, "we know nothing of the new people at the Manor. We don't even know if they have taken possession. If it is true that extensive alterations are going on, they can hardly be there yet. Why, it's only a week since they took the place."
"Julian," returned his wife, "there is no use in arguing the point. It's quite time that all the mystery about the Manor was cleared up. You know I hate gossip...."