s written from Bournemouth; it would give him
some satisfaction to tell Cynthia that the Porthcawl _menage_ ought
not to figure on her visiting list. But there! Cynthia was too
generous-minded even to avenge her wrongs, though well able to deal
with the Millicents and Mauds and Susans if they dared be spiteful.

Then the coming of Dale with various leather bags roused him from the
reverie induced by his father's curt missive, and he laughed at the
discovery that he was fighting Cynthia's battles already.

The Mercury was raising a good deal of dust in the neighborhood of
Whitchurch when its occupants noticed a pair of urchins perched on a
gate, signaling frantically. It pleased Medenham to mystify Dale, who
was, if possible, more taciturn than ever since those heart-searching
experiences at Gloucester and Hereford.

He pulled up some fifty yards or more down the road.

"You saw those boys?" he said.

"Yes, my lord, but they're only having a game."

"Nothing of the sort. Skip along and ask them if they have found out
the answer. If they say 'a day and five-sevenths,' hand them a
shilling each. Any other reply will be wrong. Don't talk. Just run
there and back, and pay only on a day and five-sevenths."

Dale ran. Soon he was in his seat again.

"I gev' 'em a bob each, my lord," he announced, grave as an owl.

While they were running slowly down the winding lane that led to the
Yat Medenham determined to make sure of his ground with reference to
Mrs. Devar.

"I suppose you left no room for doubt as to my identity in the mind
of the lady to whom you spoke over the telephone last night?" he
inquired.

"None whatever, my lord. She wormed it out of me."

"Did you mention the Earl?"

"Like an ijjit, I began by giving his lordship's name. It was my only
chanst, I couldn't get to the post-office nohow. Why, I was ordered to
bed at eight o'clock, so's his lordship could smoke in peace, as he
said."

"Then my father was determined to stop you from communicating with me,
if possible?"

"If his lordship knew that I crep' down a back stairs to the telephone
I do believe he'd have set about me with a poker," said Dale grimly.

"Strange!" mused Medenham, with eyes now more intent on the hotel than
on the road. "Influences other than Aunt Susan's must be at work. My
father would never have rushed off in a fever from town merely because
of some ill-natured gossip in a letter from Lady Porthcawl."

His mind flew to th