wanted to see," cried the reporter.

"I'm afraid I've hardly time to be interviewed just now," replied the
actor shortly.

"Oh, this isn't professional. I'm off duty sometimes. I'm only human."

"Oh, are you? I supposed newspaper men were neither the one nor the
other."

"Well, I wanted to talk to you for your own good."

"Is it as bad as all that?"

"Of course I know who you really are," pursued the journalist, ignoring
the interruption. "And I may say confidentially that you and Miss
Arminster are not the people of this party I'm after."

"Ah, that's very thoughtful of you."

"So, if I could help you two to slip off quietly--"

"Why include Miss Arminster?" queried Spotts with well-affected
surprise.

"Why? My dear fellow, you don't suppose I'm quite blind. Any one who
follows that lady about with his eyes as you do is naturally-- Well--you
understand--"

"I'm afraid your professional acumen is at fault this time," said the
actor, and added: "I hope I may never come any nearer being married than
I am now."

"Oh, I say," returned Marchmont; "don't you aspire to be her--sixteenth,
is it?"

"You're alluding to Miss Arminster's husbands?" asked Spotts drily.

"Oh, I'd a little bet up with a friend," said Marchmont, "that she'd
been married at least a baker's dozen times. Ought I to hedge?"

"I think you're well inside the number," replied the actor.

"Gad! she must be pretty well acquainted with the divorce courts!"
exclaimed the reporter.

"I'm quite sure she's never been divorced in her life," returned Spotts.
"So long. I'm after a drink." And he left him, thus terminating the
conversation.

"Ah," said the journalist to himself, "I bet you're the next in line,
just the same."

Baffled in his first attempt, Marchmont sought other means of
information, for there is always a weak spot in every defence, and a man
of far less keen perception than the reporter would have had little
difficulty in finding the most favourable point of attack. So it is not
surprising that after a little cogitation he went in search of Miss
Matilda, whom he had met the day before when he had returned with the
party from the abbey. He found that lady on the lawn knitting socks for
the heathen, and deserted for the nonce by the faithful Smith.

"Dear Miss Banborough," began the journalist, sitting down beside her,
"what a reproach it is to idle men like myself to see such industry!"

"It's very kind of you, I'm sure, to n