Inasmuch as the scene of this story is that historic pile Belpher Castle in the county of Hampshire it would be an agreeable task to open it with a leisurely description of the place followed by some notes on the history of the Earls of Marshmoreton who have owned it since the fifteenth century. Unfortunately in these days of rush and hurry a novelist works at a disadvantage. He must leap into the middle of his tale with as little delay as he would employ in boarding a moving tramcar. He must get off the mark with the smooth swiftness of a jack-rabbit surprised while lunching. Otherwise people throw him aside and go out to picture palaces.