146 STRAY-AWAYS 



proprietress, redolent of onions and patchouli, and 

 glittering with jet, added herself and her frowsy wig 

 to the family circle. The powder lay in lavender 

 drifts upon her nose, her satin corsage creaked sump- 

 tuously as she sat down to join the soiree. It became 

 apparent that she also had a desire to air her English, 

 that, in fact, the privilege of a social evening was 

 to be extended to us. We retained just sufficient 

 presence of mind to fly before becoming hopelessly 

 entangled in the social evening. 



It was entirely due to my cousin's belief in her 

 genius for locality that we did not ask for a candle, 

 and made our way without one upstairs, down an 

 ill-lighted passage, and yet another after it. My 

 cousin opened a door and advanced confidently into 

 the dark. 



" The matches are " she began. The sentence 



ended in a dolorous shriek, coincident with an advance 

 into the heart of the washhandstand. I found the 

 match-box, and the long sulphurous fizzle of the 

 Danish match illumined wanly an upset jug, and my 

 cousin standing in a coursing stream of water. My 

 cousin, let me say in serious eulogy, is a person who 

 keeps her head in an emergency. With unreflecting 

 devotion I cast my bath towel forth upon the flood, 

 and did not, till later in the proceedings, realise that 

 the sponge so expeditiously brought to bear on the 

 dingy parquet by my cousin was my own. 



Nor was it till the deluge had been disposed of 

 that we became aware of what material assistance 

 had been rendered by a crack between the parquet 

 and the hearthstone. It was first suggested to us by 

 a panic fear that the growing tumult in the room 

 below might be in some way connected with the 

 accident. We heard a shrill voice screaming out 

 something that resembled wand. Wand meant water. 



