ng you as her errant
ambassador?"

"Miss Erroll did not send me," he said, flushing up. And, looking
steadily into the smiling doll's face confronting him, he knew again
that he had failed.

"I am not inclined to be very much flattered after all," said Rosamund.
"You should have come on your own errand, Captain Selwyn, if you
expected a woman to listen to you. Did you not know that?"

"It is not a question of errands or of flattery," he said wearily; "I
thought you might care to influence a boy who is headed for serious
trouble--that is all, Mrs. Fane."

She smiled: "Come to me on your _own_ errand--for Gerald's sake, for
anybody's sake--for your own, preferably, and I'll listen. But don't
come to me on another woman's errands, for I won't listen--even to you."

"I _have_ come on my own errand!" he repeated coldly. "Miss Erroll knew
nothing about it, and shall not hear of it from me. Can you not help me,
Mrs. Fane?"

But Rosamund's rose-china features had hardened into a polished smile;
and Selwyn stood up, wearily, to make his adieux.

But, as he entered his hansom before the door, he knew the end was not
yet; and once more he set his face toward the impossible; and once more
the hansom rolled away over the asphalt, and once more it stopped--this
time before the house of Ruthven.

Every step he took now was taken through sheer force of will--and in
_her_ service; because, had it been, now, only for Gerald's sake, he
knew he must have weakened--and properly, perhaps, for a man owes
something to himself. But what he was now doing was for a young girl who
trusted him with all the fervour and faith of her heart and soul; and he
could spare himself in nowise if, in his turn, he responded heart and
soul to the solemn appeal.

Mr. Ruthven, it appeared, was at home and would receive Captain Selwyn
in his own apartment.

Which he did--after Selwyn had been seated for twenty minutes--strolling
in clad only in silken lounging clothes, and belting about his waist, as
he entered, the sash of a kimona, stiff with gold.

His greeting was a pallid stare; but, as Selwyn made no motion to rise,
he lounged over to a couch and, half reclining among the cushions, shot
an insolent glance at Selwyn, then yawned and examined the bangles on
his wrist.

After a moment Selwyn said: "Mr. Ruthven, you are no doubt surprised
that I am here--"

"I'm not surprised if it's my wife you've come to see," drawled Ruthven.
"If I'm the obj