situation. The gist of his remarks is that lovely woman rarely fails to
start something. In the weeks that followed her arrival, being in the
same room with the two men was like dropping in on a reunion of
Capulets and Montagues.
You see, Ralph and Arthur were so exactly equal in their skill on the
links that life for them had for some time past resolved itself into a
silent, bitter struggle in which first one, then the other, gained some
slight advantage. If Ralph won the May medal by a stroke, Arthur would
be one ahead in the June competition, only to be nosed out again in
July. It was a state of affairs which, had they been men of a more
generous stamp, would have bred a mutual respect, esteem, and even
love. But I am sorry to say that, apart from their golf, which was in a
class of its own as far as this neighbourhood was concerned, Ralph
Bingham and Arthur Jukes were a sorry pair--and yet, mark you, far from
lacking in mere superficial good looks. They were handsome fellows,
both of them, and well aware of the fact; and when Amanda Trivett came
to stay they simply straightened their ties, twirled their moustaches,
and expected her to do the rest.
But there they were disappointed. Perfectly friendly though she was to
both of them, the lovelight was conspicuously absent from her beautiful
eyes. And it was not long before each had come independently to a
solution of this mystery. It was plain to them that the whole trouble
lay in the fact that each neutralized the other's attractions. Arthur
felt that, if he could only have a clear field, all would be over
except the sending out of the wedding invitations; and Ralph was of the
opinion that, if he could just call on the girl one evening without
finding the place all littered up with Arthur, his natural charms would
swiftly bring home the bacon. And, indeed, it was true that they had no
rivals except themselves. It happened at the moment that Woodhaven was
very short of eligible bachelors. We marry young in this delightful
spot, and all the likely men were already paired off. It seemed that,
if Amanda Trivett intended to get married, she would have to select
either Ralph Bingham or Arthur Jukes. A dreadful choice.
* * * * *
It had not occurred to me at the outset that my position in the affair
would be anything closer than that of a detached and mildly interested
spectator. Yet it was to me that Ralph came in his hour of need. When I
returned home one evening, I found that my man had brought him in and
laid him on the mat in my sitting-room.
I offered him a chair and a cigar, and he came to the point with
commendable rapidity.
'Leigh,' he said, directly he had lighted his cigar, 'is too small for
Arthur Jukes and myself.'
'Ah, you have been talking it over and decided to move?' I said,
delighted. 'I think you are perfectly right. Leigh is over-built.
Men like you and Jukes need a lot of space. Where do you think of
going?'
'I'm not going.'
'But I thought you said----'
