. It is understood that
the Rodneys are to be the guests of the Odell-Carneys while in London.
It won't be the season, of course, so there won't be much of a commotion
in the smart set. It is our dear Edith's desire to slip into the charmed
circle through the rift that the Rodneys make. Do you comprehend?"

They were seated side by side in the corner of the compartment, his
broad back screening her as much as possible from the persistent glances
of Freddie Ulstervelt, who was nobly striving to confine his attentions
to Katherine. Brock's eyes were devouring her exquisite face with a
greediness that might have caused her some uneasiness if there had not
been something pleasantly agreeable in his way of doing it.

"Yes--faintly," he replied, after an almost imperceptible conflict
between the senses of sight and hearing. "But how does she intend to
explain me away? I'll be a dreadful skeleton in her closet if it comes
to that. When she is obliged to produce the real Roxbury, what then?"

"She's thought it all out, Roxbury," said Constance severely but almost
inaudibly. "I'm sure Freddie heard part of what you said. Do be careful.
She's going to reveal the whole plot to Mrs. Odell-Carney just as soon
as Roxbury gives the word--treating it as a very clever and necessary
ruse, don't you see. Mrs. Odell-Carney will be implored to aid in the
deception for a few days, and she'll consent, because she's really quite
a bit of a sport. At the psychological moment the Rodneys will be told.
That places Mrs. Odell-Carney in the position of being an abettor or
accomplice: she's had the distinction of being a sharer in a most
glorious piece of strategy. Don't you see how charmingly it will all
work in the end?"

"What are you two whispering about?" demanded Freddie Ulstervelt
noisily, patience coming to an end.

"Wha--what the devil is that to--" began Brock furiously. Constance
brought him up sharp with a warning kick on the ankle. He vowed
afterward that he would carry the mark to his grave.

"He's telling me what a nice chap you are, Freddie," said she sweetly.
Brock glared out of the window. Freddie sniffed scornfully.

"I'm getting sick of this job," growled Brock under his breath. "I
didn't calculate on--"

"Now, Roxbury dear, don't be a bear," she pleaded so gently, her eyes so
full of appeal, that he flushed with sudden shame and contrition.

"Forgive me," he said, the old light coming back into his eyes so
strongly tha