"

The maitre d'hotel glanced covertly in the direction indicated. He did
not at once reply. His face was perplexed, almost troubled.

"I am very sorry, sir," he said hesitatingly, "but our orders are very
strict. Monsieur Ciro does not like anything in the way of gossip about
our clients, and the gentleman is a very honoured patron. The young lady
is his daughter."

"Quite right," the young man agreed bluntly. "This isn't an ordinary
case, Charles. You go over to the desk there, write me down the name and
bring it, and there's a hundred franc note waiting here for you. No need
for the name to pass your lips."

The man bowed and retreated. In a few minutes he came back again and
laid a small card upon the table.

"Monsieur will pardon my reminding him," he begged earnestly, "but if he
will be so good as to never mention this little matter--"

Richard nodded and waved him away.

"Sure!" he promised.

He drew the card towards him and looked at it in a puzzled manner. Then
he passed it to his sister. Her expression, too, was blank.

"Who in the name of mischief," he exclaimed softly, "is Mr. Grex!"

CHAPTER V

"WHO IS MR. GREX?"

Lady Weybourne insisted, after a reasonable amount of time spent over
their coffee, that her brother should pay the bill and leave the
restaurant. They walked slowly across the square.

"What are you going to do about it?" he asked.

"There is only one thing to be done," she replied. "I shall speak to
every one I meet this afternoon--I shall be, in fact, most sociable--and
sooner or later in our conversation I shall ask every one if they know
Mr. Grex and his daughter. When I arrive at some one who does, that will
be the first step, won't it?"

"I wonder whether we shall see some one soon!" he grumbled, looking
around. "Where are all the people to-day!"

She laughed softly.

"Just a little impetuous, aren't you?"

"I should say so," he admitted. "I'd like to be introduced to her before
four o'clock, propose to her this evening, and--and--"

"And what?"

"Never mind," he concluded, marching on with his head turned towards the
clouds. "Let's go and sit down upon the Terrace and talk about her."

"But, my dear Dicky," his sister protested, "I don't want to sit upon
the Terrace. I am going to my dressmaker's across the way there, and
afterwards to Lucie's to try on some hats. Then I am going back to the
hotel for an hour's rest and to prink, and afterwards into the S