Oh, I remember now, I heard something. It appears that Romer left his
wife and Daphne at the dance and then came back in an hour to fetch
them, and she wasn't there."

"Who wasn't where?"

"Val and Harry had gone for a little fresh air in a taxi for about a
quarter of an hour, that's all. They came back and explained it."

"They would. Don't apologise."

"But just the few minutes that Romer was looking for them made--well,
rather a fuss. It was perfectly all right afterwards. They all had
supper together. So there wasn't much talk about it, except, as I say,
while Romer was waiting for them. I never in my life saw any one look so
ghastly as that chap did."

Vaughan sat down and looked thoughtful.

"Only you, Muir, would leave out the only thing of the slightest
importance that you had to tell me, which I hear the second I leave the
house from that round-faced tattooed idiot, Rathbone, at the corner of
the street."

"But I tell you it's all right, old chap."

"All right? Don't you see that this sort of thing constantly happening
will gradually undermine ...? I like Valentia. It's a great shame."

"Harry certainly isn't worth smashing up a happy home for," Muir
answered, "if that's what you're afraid of. But ... when he marries Miss
Walmer it'll be all right. Val will forget about him, and settle down
with Romer again. I'm deeper than you think, Gillie ... ah, I don't say
much, but I can see as far through a brick wall as most people!"

"Just about as far, I should think," said Vaughan contemptuously.

"What do you propose to do about it?"

"It's likely I'd tell you." Gillie sat down to his desk and rang a bell.

"I suppose I've got to go now, eh?"

"Almost time, I should think."

"Ha, ha, ha! Capital! Well, so long! Be good."

Muir went away as heartily as he had arrived.

The bell was answered by the entrance of the housekeeper, Mrs. Mills.
She was a muddle-headed, elderly woman in black silk, whom Vaughan kept
because her extraordinary tactlessness amused him. She invariably
managed to do and say the wrong thing at the right time. To-day it was a
hot morning in July. She came in holding in her hand a little card
covered with frost and robins.

"Mr. Vaughan, sir, I appened to be going through my things, and I come
across this, sir. I thought pre-aps you'd like it. It is pretty."

She insisted on his taking it.

"Charming, Mrs. Mills, but I don't quite see----"

"Oh, look at the words, sir! They