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small piece of paper out of it. “Hello,” he said, “what's this, I wonder?” He read aloud. “'Sucks to you.'”
    “What!” Sir Rowland exclaimed, and Pippa went off into a gale of laughter. The others joined in, and Sir Rowland playfully shook Pippa, who pretended to punch him in return as she boasted, “I put that there!”
    “You little villain!” said Sir Rowland, ruffling her hair. “You're getting as bad as Clarissa with your silly tricks.”
    “Actually,” Pippa told them, “there was an envelope with an autograph of Queen Victoria in it. Look, I'll show you.” She dashed to the bookshelves, while Clarissa went to the desk, replaced the drawers, and closed the pigeonhole.
    At the bookshelves, Pippa opened a small box on one of the lower shelves, took out an old envelope containing three scraps of paper, and displayed them to the assembled company.
    “Do you collect autographs, Pippa?” Sir Rowland asked her.
    “Not really,” replied Pippa. “Only as a sideline.” She handed one of the pieces of paper to Hugo, who glanced at it and passed it on to Sir Rowland.
    “A girl at school collects stamps, and her brother's got a smashing collection himself,” Pippa told them. “Last autumn he thought he'd got one like the one he saw in the paper – a Swedish something or other which was worth hundreds of pounds.” As she spoke, she handed the two remaining autographs and the envelope to Hugo, who passed them on to Sir Rowland.
    “My friend's brother was awfully excited,” Pippa continued, “and he took the stamp to a dealer. But the dealer said it wasn't what he thought it was, though it was quite a good stamp. Anyway, he gave him five pounds for it.”
    Sir Rowland handed two of the autographs back to Hugo, who passed them on to Pippa. “Five pounds is pretty good, isn't it?” Pippa asked him, and Hugo grunted his agreement.
    Pippa looked down at the autographs. “How much do you think Queen Victoria's autograph would be worth?” she wondered aloud.
    “About five to ten shillings, I should think,” Sir Rowland told her, as he looked at the envelope he was still holding.
    “There's John Ruskin's here too, and Robert Browning's,” Pippa told them.
    “They're not worth much either, I'm afraid,” said Sir Rowland, handing the remaining autograph and the envelope to Hugo, who passed them on to Pippa, murmuring sympathetically as he did so, “Sorry, my dear. You're not doing very well, are you?”
    “I wish I had Neville Duke's and Roger Bannister's,” Pippa murmured wistfully. “These historical ones are rather mouldy, I think.” She replaced the envelope and autographs in the box, placed the box back on the shelf, and then began to back towards the hall door. “Can I see if there are any more chocolate biscuits in the larder, Clarissa?” she asked hopefully.
    “Yes, if you like,” Clarissa told her, smiling.
    “We must be off,” said Hugo, following Pippa towards the door and calling up the staircase, “Jeremy! Hi! Jeremy!”
    “Coming,” Jeremy shouted back as he hurried down the stairs, crossed the hall, and entered the room carrying a golf club.
    “Henry ought to be home soon,” Clarissa murmured, to herself as much as to the others.
    Hugo went across to the French windows, calling to Jeremy, “Better go out this way. It's nearer.” He turned back to Clarissa. “Good night, Clarissa dear,” he said. “Thank you for putting up with us. I'll probably go straight home from the club, but I promise to send your weekend guests back to you in one piece.”
    “Good night, Clarissa,” Jeremy joined in, as he and Hugo left by the French windows.
    Clarissa waved them goodbye, as Sir Rowland came across and put his arm around her. “Good night, my dear,” he said. “Warrender and I will probably not be in until about midnight.”
    Clarissa accompanied him to the French windows. “It's really a lovely evening,” she observed. “I'll come with you as far as the gate onto the