course," said the lady, when he hinted at the obstacle, "there's my
fare back to town, and my bill here and cabs and things. If you'll lend
me three pounds that ought to see me through comfortably. Thanks ever
so. Then there is the question of that luggage: I don't want to be
saddled with that for the rest of my life. I'll have it brought down to
the hall and you can pretend to mount guard over it while I'm writing a
letter. Then I shall just slip away to the station, and you can wander
off to the smoking-room, and they can do what they like with the things.
They'll advertise them after a bit and the owner can claim them."

Jerton acquiesced in the manoeuvre, and duly mounted guard over the
luggage while its temporary owner slipped unobtrusively out of the hotel.
Her departure was not, however, altogether unnoticed. Two gentlemen were
strolling past Jerton, and one of them remarked to the other:

"Did you see that tall young woman in grey who went out just now? She is
the Lady--"

His promenade carried him out of earshot at the critical moment when he
was about to disclose the elusive identity. The Lady Who? Jerton could
scarcely run after a total stranger, break into his conversation, and ask
him for information concerning a chance passer-by. Besides, it was
desirable that he should keep up the appearance of looking after the
luggage. In a minute or two, however, the important personage, the man
who knew, came strolling back alone. Jerton summoned up all his courage
and waylaid him.

"I think I heard you say you knew the lady who went out of the hotel a
few minutes ago, a tall lady, dressed in grey. Excuse me for asking if
you could tell me her name; I've been talking to her for half an hour;
she--er--she knows all my people and seems to know me, so I suppose I've
met her somewhere before, but I'm blest if I can put a name to her. Could
you--?"

"Certainly. She's a Mrs. Stroope."

"_Mrs_.?" queried Jerton.

"Yes, she's the Lady Champion at golf in my part of the world. An awful
good sort, and goes about a good deal in Society, but she has an awkward
habit of losing her memory every now and then, and gets into all sorts of
fixes. She's furious, too, if you make any allusion to it afterwards.
Good day, sir."

The stranger passed on his way, and before Jerton had had time to
assimilate his information he found his whole attention centred on an
angry-looking lady who was making loud and fretful-s