His desire was not difficult of fulfilment, as nothing but seven hours' traveling lay between him and a welcoming Belgrave Square. The next day he crossed the Channel and took his uncle and aunt completely by surprise. They were delighted to see him and were unaffectedly disappointed at having to leave him almost immediately for a dinner in Downing Street.
"But we're going to see a lot of you while you're here, dear boy," said Aunt Miriam, "if we have to break every engagement on our list. It isn't every day that I have a nephew turn into a successful playwright! What about a dinner, now? Giles, have you anything on for a week from Monday?"
"The truth is," observed Sir Giles to his nephew, "you've become a lion, and a lion is a lion even if he is in the family. Poor Harry, I feel for you!"
"That'll do, G. It's good for the boy."
"There's small danger of my being a lion in London, anyway," said Harry.
"Oh, I don't know," ruminated Uncle Giles: "adoration of success is the great British vice, you know."
"Monday the fourth, then, Giles," said his wife.
"Hooray, the national holiday!" retorted the irrepressible baronet. "I say, we'll have the room decorated with American flags and set off fireworks in the square afterward. We might make a real day of it, if you like, and go to tea at the American Embassy!"
"No, I don't think we'll do that," answered Aunt Miriam, closing her lips rather firmly.
Harry had a short talk alone with his aunt that night after she came back from the evening's business.