stood, is it?"
he said. "One of us ought to be with her, and as you and Rupert are
chasing after Trevor, and Max is in town, it looks like my job. Anyhow,
I'm going to take it on."

"All right," Jack said. "Go and prosper. I'm not sure that you will be
wanted. But that's a detail. I daresay Chris may like to have you."

Noel grinned boyishly. "You're a white man, Jack! I'm jolly glad you
turned up. Between ourselves, I don't mind telling you that I've been in
a fairly stiff paste all day. It's a beastly feeling, isn't it? I'd have
looked after her better if I'd known."

"You're a white man too," said Jack kindly. "Mind you behave like one."

They parted for the night soon after, to meet again very early in the
morning, and finally separate upon their various errands.

Noel departed upon his in obviously high spirits; but he maintained his
air of responsibility notwithstanding, and Jack took leave of him with a
smile of approval.

He himself telegraphed to Hilda as soon as he arrived in town, and
acquainted her with the fact of the boy's advent. He directed her to send
her answering message to him at Mordaunt's rooms, and then proceeded
thither with the firm determination to see the owner thereof without
further delay.

Holmes admitted him, and imparted the information that his master was at
breakfast with the eldest Mr. Wyndham, who had arrived overnight.

Jack's jaw hardened at the news. He had not expected to find Rupert
accepting his brother-in-law's hospitality. He shrugged his shoulders
over the volatility of the Wyndhams, and announced curtly that he desired
to see Mr. Mordaunt in private.

"Will you come into the smoking-room, sir?" asked Holmes.

"Certainly. But tell him I can't wait," said Jack.

He marched into the smoking-room therewith, and Holmes softly closed the
door upon him. The window by which Mordaunt had sat all night long was
open, and the sounds of the street below came cheerily in. Jack crossed
over and quietly shut it.

Turning from this, his eyes fell upon a photograph on the mantelpiece. He
went up to it and took it between his hands. Gaily the pictured face
laughed up at him--Chris in her happiest, wildest mood, with Cinders
clasped in her arms; Chris, the child of the sunny eyes that no shadow
had ever darkened!

Something rose suddenly in Jack's throat. He gulped hard, and put the
portrait back. Was it indeed Chris--the broken-hearted woman he had held
in his arms but yesterd