"When's your 'boss' returning? It seems to me he's allowing you to
live the life of the idle rich. Will he be back for Adrienne's
reception?"

"No. About a week afterwards, I expect."

"Where's he been?"

"Oh, all over the shop--I've had letters from him from half the
capitals in Europe. But he's been in Russia longest of all, I think."

"Russia?"--musingly. "I suppose he isn't a Russian by any chance?"

"I've never asked him," returned Jerry shortly.

"He is certainly not pure English. Look at his high cheek-bones. And
his temperament isn't English, either," she added, with a secret smile.

Jerry remained silent.

"Don't you think it's rather funny that we none of us know anything
about him?--I mean beyond the mere fact that his name is Errington and
that he's a well-known playwright."

"Why do you want to know more?" growled Jerry.

"Well, I think there is something behind, something odd about him.
Olga Lermontof is always hinting that there is."

"Look here, Diana," said Jerry, getting rather red. "Don't let's talk
about Errington. You know we always get shirty with each other when we
do. I'm not going to pry into his private concerns--and as for Miss
Lermontof, she's the type of woman who simply revels in making
mischief."

"But it _is_ funny Mr. Errington should be so--so reserved about
himself," persisted Diana. "Hasn't he ever told you anything?"

"No, he has not," replied Jerry curtly. "Nor should I ever ask him to.
I'm quite content to take him as I find him."

"All the same, I believe Miss Lermontof knows something about
him--something not quite to his credit."

"I swear she doesn't," burst out Jerry violently. "Just because he
doesn't choose to blab out all his private affairs to the world at
large, that black-browed female Tartar must needs imagine he has
something to conceal. It's damnable! I'd stake my life Errington's as
straight as a die--and always has been."

"You're a good friend, Jerry," said Diana, rather wistfully.

"Yes, I am," he returned stoutly. "And so are you, as a rule. I can't
think why you're so beastly unfair to Errington."

"You forget," she said swiftly, "he's not my friend. And perhaps--he
hasn't always been quite fair to me."

"Oh, well, let's drop the subject now"--Jerry wriggled his broad
shoulders uncomfortably. "Tell me, how are the Rector and--and Miss
Stair?"

The previous summer Jerry had spent a week at Red Gables, and had made
Jo