s very tired of standing," the girl promptly returned, "and of
_waiting_, too"--with a certain imperiousness in her tone. "I
wandered away to fill up the time till Mr. Wildred should have
straightened matters in the dining-room."

She had contrived to satisfy their curiosity without telling an actual
falsehood, of which I knew instinctively she would greatly dislike
making herself guilty.

It did not seem to occur to them to enter the drawing-room where she had
left me; and when I was sure that they had passed out of sight and
hearing I came forth from the ignominious hiding-place to which her
command had condemned me.

In the exalted mood which had possession of me the thought of dinner
would have been abhorrent. For the rest of the evening I kept my room,
meditating many things, and becoming more and more desirous of learning
Carson Wildred's secret, if secret indeed he had.

At all events, I still had six weeks in which to work, with the hope
ever before me of saving Karine Cunningham from the man whom, by her own
confession, she did not love.

Strange and desperate expedients passed in review before me. How was I
to accomplish my object? The man had denied ever having met me in old
days when it had been mentioned to him that I fancied a previous
acquaintance had somewhere existed; and if I were to learn anything
satisfactory in regard to his antecedents I felt that it must be from
others.

He had made himself a name in a certain set in London, there was no
doubt of that; and I set myself to find out, step by step, how he had
contrived to do it--what was the actual foundation for the reports of
his wealth, his "smartness," his influence on many sides.

On the following day, Monday, I went to my old club, the Wayfarers,
which I had not yet troubled with my presence, and picked out a man
named Driscoll, who made a business of knowing everybody and everything.
Beginning with some conventional talk about the changes in England in
general, and London in particular, since I had seen it last, I managed
to mention Carson Wildred without appearing to have dragged his name
into the conversation for any special purpose of my own.

It sprang from some talk about a British Christmas, and I made as
humorous a story as I could about my having gone down to the House by
the Lock only to miss my friend and my dinner after all.

"Wildred can entertain royally if he chooses," said Driscoll. "I've been
to dinners he gave at th