om her; she was
not greatly misled by that untroubled look of his and yet she was
unconsciously reassured by it.... And although he refused to be
stampeded by alarm he was not incredulous of it, for his manner was
frankly grave.

"I'll send out at once," he said decisively, "and see if I can pick
up any gossip of that reception. I've a very clever clerk with
brothers in the bazaars who is a perfect wireless for information.
He has told me the night before a man was to be murdered."

He paused, reflecting that was not a happy suggestion.

"Then I'll send out to Jack's diggings. That express doesn't stop
to-night, but I'll find a way. And I'll let you know as soon as I
can."

"You're very kind," said Jinny gratefully.

His competent manner brought her a light-hearted sensation of
difficulties already solved. Jack was as good as found, she felt in
swift reaction. If he was in any trouble this forceful young man
would settle it.

But probably he wasn't in any trouble. Probably he was just at his
diggings--rushing off from her in the exasperating way he seemed to
do whenever they were getting on particularly well.... She
remembered how he had bolted from that masquerade which had begun so
happily. He had said he was ill, but she had never completely slain
the suspicion that his illness sprang from ennui and disinclination.

She rose. "I mustn't take any more of your time, Mr. McLean--and you
probably have a four fifteen engagement."

But her light raillery failed of its mark.

"Eh? No, I have not," seriously he assured her. "You are quite the
last one I took on--the last before tea."

He paused confused with a strange suggestion.... Tea.... His servant
did it rather well.... And it was time--

Usually he had it in the garden. It was a charming garden, full of
roses, with a nice view of the Citadel--and his strange suggestion
expanded with a rosy vision of Jinny among the roses, beside his
wicker table.... Would she possibly care to--?

He struggled with his idea--and with his shyness. And then the sense
that it wasn't quite decent, somehow, to be offering tea to this
girl whom anxiety for Ryder's unknown lot had brought to him
overcame that unwonted impulse.

He dismissed the idea. And like all shy men he was oddly relieved at
the passing of the necessity for initiative, even while he felt his
mild hope's expiring pang.

He stepped before her to open the doors to which she was now taking
herself.

In th