k to us and speculated as to who and what
this Mr. Fendihook might be.

"Why didn't you ask her?" said I.

"It would scarcely have been polite."

We consulted Jaffery. "Never heard of him," he growled. "And I don't
like to hear of him now. That young woman's running loose a vast deal
too much."

"What an old dog in the manger you are!" cried Barbara; and thus started
an old argument.

On Sunday morning we saw Mr. Fendihook for ourselves. I met the car, a
two-seater, which he drove himself, at the front door, and perceived
between a motoring cap worn peak behind and a tightly buttoned Burberry
coat a pink, fleshy, clean shaven face, from the middle of which
projected an enormous cigar. I helped Liosha out.

"This is Mr. Fendihook."

"Commonly called Ras Fendihook, at your service," said he.

I smiled and shook hands and gave the car into the charge of my
chauffeur, who appeared from the stable-yard. In the hall, aided by
Franklin, Mr. Ras Fendihook divested himself of his outer wrappings and
revealed a thickset man of medium height, rather flashily attired. I
know it is narrow-minded, but I have a prejudice against a black and
white check suit, and a red necktie threaded through a gold ring.

"Against the rules?" he asked, holding up his cigar, a very good one, on
which he had retained the band.

"By no means," said I, "we smoke all over the house."

"Tiptop!" He looked around the hall. "You seem to have a bit of all
right here."

"I told you you would like it. Everybody does," said Liosha. "Ah,
Barbara, dear!" She ran up the stairs to meet her. We followed. Mr.
Fendihook was presented. I noticed, with a little shock, that he had
kept on his gloves.

"Very kind of you to let me come down, madam. I thought a bit of a blow
would do our fair friend good."

Barbara took off Liosha, looking very handsome and fresh beneath the
motor-veil, to her room, leaving me with Mr. Fendihook. As he preceded
me into the drawing-room I saw a bald patch like a tonsure in the middle
of a crop of coarse brown hair. Again he looked round appreciatively and
again he said "Tiptop!" He advanced to the open French window.

"Garden's all right. Must take a lot of doing. Who are our friends? The
long and the short of it, aren't they?"

He alluded to Jaffery and Doria, who were strolling on the lawn. I told
him their names.

"Jaffery Chayne. Why, that's the chap Mrs. Prescott's always talking
about, her guardian or something."