et you, Mr. Brock. I've been trying to picture what you would look
like, ever since Roxbury went out to find you. Sit here, please, near
me. Roxbury, has Mr. Brock really fallen into your terrible trap? Isn't
it the most ridiculous proceeding, Mr. Brock--"

"Call him Roxbury, my dear. He's fully prepared for it. And now let's
get down to business. He insists upon talking it over with you. You
don't mind me being present, do you, Brock? I daresay I can help you
out a bit. I've been married four years."

For an hour the trio discussed the situation from all sides and in all
its phases. When Brock arose to take his departure, he was irrevocably
committed to the enterprise; he was, moreover, completely enchanted by
the vista of harmless fun and sweet adventure that stretched before him.
He went away with his head full of the brilliant, quick-witted, loyal
young American who was entering so heartily into the plot to deceive her
own friends for the time being in order that her husband might profit in
high places.

"She _is_ ripping," he said to Medcroft in the hallway. All of the plans
had been made and all of them had been approved by the young wife. She
had shown wonderful perspicacity and foresight in the matter of details;
her capacity for selection and disposal was even more comprehensive than
that of the two men, both of whom were somewhat staggered by the
boldness of more than one suggestion which came from her fruitful
storehouse of romantic ideas. She had grasped the full humour of the
situation, from inception to _denouement_, and, to all appearance, was
heart and soul deep in the venture, despising the risks because she knew
that succour was always at her elbow in the shape of her husband's loyal
support. There was no condition involved which could not be explained to
her credit; adequate compensation for the merry sacrifice was to be had
in the brief detachment from rigid English conventionality, in the
hazardous injection of quixotism into an otherwise overly healthful life
of platitudes. Society had become the sepulchre of youthful
inspirations; she welcomed the resurrection. The exquisite delicacy with
which she analysed the cost and computed the interest won for her the
warmest regard of her husband's friend, fellow conspirator in a plot
which involved the subtlest test of loyalty and honour.

"Yes," said Medcroft simply. "You won't have reason to change your
opinion, Brock." He hesitated for a moment and t