“Bertie, old man, I feel immense. I look round me, and everything seems to be absolutely corking. The change in the mater is marvellous. She is twenty-five years younger. She and old Danby are talking of reviving ‘Fun in a Teashop,’ and going out on the road with it.”

I got up.

“Gussie, old top,” I said, “leave me for a while. I would be alone. I think I’ve got brain fever or something.”

“Sorry, old man; perhaps New York doesn’t agree with you. When do you expect to go back to England?”

I looked again at Aunt Agatha’s cable.

“With luck,” I said, “in about ten years.”

When he was gone I took up the cable and read it again.

“What is happening?” it read. “Shall I come over?”