into my ear that Miss Vi Vassity
wasn't at home. That nobody knew when she was coming back. That the time
to expect her was the time when she was seen coming in!

Charming trait! But why did the comedienne with the brass-bright hair
choose to pass on that characteristic to my mistress?

I tried another number. "Nought, nought, nought Gerrard, please. I want
to speak to Mr. Burke."

A rich brogue floated back to me across the wires. "What's attached to
the charmin' girlish voice that's delighting my ears?"

"This is Miss--Miss Million's maid."

"Go on, darlin'," said the voice.

I gasped.

"Is that Mr. Burke speaking?"

"Who should ut be? This is the great, the notorious Burke himself."

"I mean," I called flurriedly, "is that my Mr. Burke?"

"I'd ask to be called nothing better!" declared the voice. "Thry me!"

I raged, flushing scarlet, and thanking heaven that those irrepressible
blue Irish eyes did not see my angry confusion.

I called back: "This is important, Mr. Burke. I want to ask you about my
mistress. Miss Million has not come back, and I want you to tell me if
you know where she has gone."

"Is there anything I'd refuse a young lady? I'd tell you in one minute
if I knew, me dear."

"You don't know?" anxiously. "Where did you last see her?"

"Isn't it my own black and bitter loss that I'll confide to ye now? Miss
Million, d'ye say? Faith, I've never seen her at all!"

"Not last night----"

"Not anny night. Can't I come round and dhry those tears for her pretty
maid?" demanded the voice that I now heard to be Irish with a difference
from the softly persuasive accent of the Honourable Jim.

It went on: "Sure, I can see from here the lovely gyrull you must be,
from your attractive voice! Where'r' ye speakin' from? Will I call on ye
this afternoon, or will ye come round to----"

I broke in with severity:

"Do you mind telling me your other name?"

"Christian names already? With all the pleasure in life, dear," came
back the eager answer. "Here's a health to those that love me, and me
name's Julian!"

With another gasp I hung up the receiver, cutting off this other, this
unknown "J. Burke," whom I had evoked in my flurry and the anxiety that
caused the addresses in the telephone book to dance before my eyes.

I got the number of the Honourable James Burke, and found myself
speaking, I suppose, to somebody in the Jermyn Street hairdresser's
shop, above which, as I'd heard from Mr