“Stop being so gloomy,” the Marquis commanded, “we are going to have the best dinner we have ever had. The wines will be superlative, the finest I have in the cellar. After that the majority of those present will be only too glad to compete for the prizes I am offering.”
“That I can well believe,” Freddie remarked, “but the more sensible of your friends will undoubtedly have an excuse which will prevent them from accepting your invitation. Who is actually coming?”
The Marquis gave him a rapid list of names, most of whom he knew well. Then, as he added ‘Sir Charles Lingfield’, Freddie commented,
“Lingfield? But he is too old.”
“Not really. I don’t suppose he has reached his fortieth birthday.”
“Then he is too old,” Freddie protested. “You know as well as I do, Serle, that if the course
