w, Dunwoodie greeted Cassy when Jones had
succeeded in getting her into the inner and airy office. The old ruffian
drew a chair.

"Do me the honour."

Cassy sat down. What a funny old man, she thought.

Jones addressing the door, remarked dreamily: "Pendente lite, I will
renew my acquaintance with Swinburne's 'Espousals.'"

Dunwoodie glared. "You will find it in the library." Then he sat down,
folded his hands on his waistcoat and smiled at Cassy. "Nice day."

"Very."

"Down here often?"

Cassy shook her docked hair. "No, and I don't at all know why I am here
now. I do know though, and I may as well tell you at once, I have no
intention of making a fuss."

Dunwoodie's smile, a smile quasi-ogrish, semi-paternal, expanded. "If
our Potsdam friend only resembled you!"

For a young woman so recently and doubly bereaved, Cassy's blue smock
and yellow skirt seemed to him properly subdued. Moreover, from a word
that Jones had dropped, he realised that wealth had not presided at
their selection.

He twirled his thumbs. "But let me ask, what may your full name be?"

"Bianca Cara."

"Hum! Ha! Most becoming. And how young are you?"

Well, I like that! thought Cassy, who answered: "Twenty-one."

Dunwoodie crossed his legs. "You think me an impertinent old man. I
don't mean to be impertinent. I take a great interest in you."

"Very good of you, I'm sure."

"Not at all. Is your grandmother living?"

"For heaven's sake! You did not know her, did you?"

"No, but I stand ready to take her place."

"You would find it difficult. She is buried in Portugal."

"The place of your grandfather then, the place of any one whom you can
trust."

"But why?"

"Well, let me ask. What are your plans?"

"My plans? Mr. Jones asked me that. I have a sort of a voice and I am
looking for an engagement. But the season is ending. Then too I am told
I ought to change my name. I won't do it."

"Hum! Ha! But it appears that you have."

He's crazy too, thought Cassy, who said: "I don't know what you are
talking about."

Dunwoodie extracted his towel. "Why, my dear young lady, you are Mrs.
Paliser."

Cassy flushed. "I am nothing of the kind. I don't know how you got such
an idea."

Dunwoodie, quite as though he were doing some hard thinking, folded and
refolded that towel which was his handkerchief. "Yet you married Montagu
Paliser, Jr., did you not?"

"Not at all. That is I thought I did, but the man who performed the
cerem