ant face.

"It's all right!" he exclaimed. "Talk of diplomatists! I ought to be an
ambassador."

He flung himself into a chair, grinning with satisfaction like a
schoolboy.

"What is it?" asked Lady Holme, looking up from her writing-table.

"I've been to Lady Brayley, explained the whole thing, and got us both
off. After all, she was a friend of my mother's, and knew me in kilts
and all that, so she ought to be ready to do me a favour. She looked
a bit grim, but she's done it. You've--only got to tip her a note of
thanks."

"You're mad then, Fritz!"

Lady Holme stood up suddenly.

"Never saner."

He put one hand into the breast pocket of his coat and pulled out an
envelope.

"Here's what she says to you."

Lady Holme tore the note open.

"BRAYLEY HOUSE, W.

"DEAR VIOLA,--Holme tells me you made a mistake when you accepted
my invitation for the first, and that you have long been pledged
to be present on that date at some theatrical performance or other.
I am sorry I did not know sooner, but of course I release you with
pleasure from your engagement with me, and I have already filled up
your places.--Believe me, yours always sincerely,

"MARTHA BRAYLEY."

Lady Holme read this note carefully, folded it up, laid it quietly on
the writing-table and repeated:

"You're mad, Fritz."

"What d'you mean--mad?"

"You've made Martha Brayley my enemy for life."

"Rubbish!"

"I beg your pardon. And for--for--"

She stopped. It was wiser not to go on. Perhaps her face spoke for her,
even to so dull an observer as Lord Holme, for he suddenly said, with a
complete change of tone:

"I forgave you about Carey."

"Oh, I see! You want a _quid pro quo_. Thank you, Fritz."

"Don't forget to tip Lady Brayley a note of thanks," he said rather
loudly, getting up from his chair.

"Oh, thanks! You certainly ought to be an ambassador--at the court of
some savage monarch."

He said nothing, but walked out of the room whistling the refrain about
Ina.

When he had gone Lady Holme sat down and wrote two notes. One was to
Lady Brayley and was charmingly apologetic, saying that the confusion
was entirely owing to Fritz's muddle-headedness, and that she was in
despair at her misfortune--which was almost literally true. The other
was to Sir Donald Ulford, begging him to join them in their box on the
first, and asking whether it was possible to persuade Mr. and Mrs. Leo
Ulford to