I can't tell you--yet," replied Diana demurely.

"I'll ask you again in half an hour," he returned undaunted. "I'm
Leigh, you know. Jerry Leigh, Errington's secretary."

"I suppose, then, you're a very busy person?"

"Well, pretty much so in the mornings and sometimes up till late at
night, but Errington's a rattling good 'boss' and very often gives me
an 'afternoon out.' That's why I'm here now. I'm off duty and Miss de
Gervais told me I might come to tea whenever I'm free. You
see"--confidentially--"I've very few friends in London."

"Same here," responded Diana shortly.

"No, not really?"--with obvious satisfaction. "Then we ought to pal up
together, oughtn't we?"

"Don't you want my credentials?" asked Diana, smiling,

"Lord, no! One has only to look at you."

Diana laughed outright.

"That's quite the nicest compliment I've ever received, Mr. Leigh," she
said.

(It was odd that while Errington always made her feel rather small and
depressingly young, with Jerry Leigh she felt herself to be quite a
woman of the world.)

"It isn't a compliment," protested Jerry stoutly. "It's just the
plain, unvarnished truth."

"I'm afraid your 'boss' wouldn't agree with you."

"Oh, nonsense!"

"Indeed it isn't. He always treats me as though I were a hot potato,
and he were afraid of burning his fingers."

Jerry roared.

"Well, perhaps he's got good reason."

Diana shook; her head smilingly.

"Oh, no. It's not that. Mr. Errington doesn't like me."

Jerry stared at her reflectively.

"That couldn't be true," he said at last, with conviction.

"I don't know that I like him--very much--either," pursued Diana.

"You would if you really knew him," said the boy eagerly. "He's one of
the very best."

"He's rather a mysterious person, don't you think?"

Jerry regarded her very straightly.

"Oh, well," he returned bluntly, "every man's a right to have his own
private affairs."

Then there _was_ something!

Diana felt her heart beat a little faster. She had thrown out the
remark as the merest feeler, and now his own secretary, the man who
must be nearer to him than any other, had given what was tantamount to
an acknowledgment of the fact that Errington's life held some secret.

"Anyway"--Jerry was speaking again--"_I've_ got good reason to be
grateful to him. I was on my uppers when he happened along--and
without any prospect of re-soling. I'd played the fool at Monte Carlo,
and, like a bri