"Please regard them as such," said I, with a laugh, "and let Dale alone.
Allow him to do whatever irrational thing he likes, save bringing the
lady here to tea. If you try to tear him away from her he'll only cling
to her the closer. If you trumpet abroad her infamy he'll proclaim her a
slandered and martyred saint. Leave him to me for the present."

"I'll do so gladly," said Lady Kynnersley, with surprising meekness.
"But you _will_ bring him back, Simon? I've arranged for him to marry
Maisie. I can't have my plans for the future upset."

By-law 379! Dear, excellent, but wooden-headed woman!

"I have your promise, haven't I?" she said, her hand in mine.

"You have," said I nobly.

But how in the name of Astaroth I'm going to keep it I haven't the
remotest conception.



CHAPTER III

Some letters in Dale's round handwriting lay on the library table
awaiting my signature. Dale himself had gone. A lady had called for him,
said Rogers, in an electric brougham. As my chambers are on the second
floor and the staircase half-way down the arcade, Rogers's detailed
information surprised me. I asked him how he knew.

"A chauffeur in livery, sir, came to the door and said that the brougham