hich
appeared on the cards, to a chap at the club who is rather a learned
Orientalist, and he assured me that, so far as he could judge from my
description, it corresponded with that of the supposed seal of Solomon.
I was unable to remember part of the design, of course. But, at any
rate, this merely goes to prove that Bablon is an accomplished showman."

"I am afraid I must be going, Dick. I have to meet Zoe Oppner."

"Let's go and find a cab, then. But it was so delightful to have you all
to myself, Mary, if only for a very little while."

The boyishness had gone out of his voice again, and Lady Mary knew all
too well of what he was thinking. She took his arm and pressed it hard.

"I don't think anyone was ever in such a dreadful position in the world
before, Dick!" she declared. "To tolerate it seems impossible, seems
wrong. But to defy Rohscheimer, with your affairs as they are,
means--what does it mean, Dick?"

"I dare not think what it means, Mary," he replied. "Not when _you_ are
with me. But one day--soon, I am afraid--it will all be taken out of my
hands. I shall tell Mr. Julius Rohscheimer exactly what I think of him,
and there will be an end of the whole arrangement."

They said no more until the girl was entering the cab. Then:

"_I_ understand, Dick," she whispered, "and nobody else knows, so try to
be diplomatic for a little longer."

Holding her hand, he looked into her eyes. Then, without another word
between them, the cab moved off, and Haredale stood looking after it
until it was lost amid the traffic. He started to walk across to Park
Lane.

At the Astoria Zoe was waiting patiently. But when, at last, Mary found
herself in her friend's room, the gloomy companionship of the thoughts
with which she had been alone since leaving Haredale, proved too
grievous to be borne alone. She threw herself on to a cushioned settee,
and her troubles found vent in tears.

"Mary, dear!" cried Zoe, all that was maternal protective in her nature,
asserting itself. "Tell me all about it."

The unruly mop of her brown hair mingled with the gold of her friend's,
and presently, between sobs, the story was told--an old, old story
enough.

"He will have to resign his commission," she sobbed. "And then he will
have to go abroad! Oh, Zoe! I know it must come soon. Even _I_ cannot
expect him, nor wish him to dance attendance on that odious Julius
Rohscheimer for ever! And he makes so little headway."

Zoe's little