a comfort to have you. Your
uncle and I are going to lunch."

"All right," said Val; "I shall have time to go and see that fellow."
And, parting from them abruptly, he ran down the stairs and out into the
air. He bolted into a hansom, and drove to the Goat's Club. His thoughts
were on Holly and what he must do before her brother showed her this
thing in to-morrow's paper.

*****

When Val had left them Soames and Winifred made their way to the
Cheshire Cheese. He had suggested it as a meeting place with Mr.
Bellby. At that early hour of noon they would have it to themselves,
and Winifred had thought it would be 'amusing' to see this far-famed
hostelry. Having ordered a light repast, to the consternation of the
waiter, they awaited its arrival together with that of Mr. Bellby, in
silent reaction after the hour and a half's suspense on the tenterhooks
of publicity. Mr. Bellby entered presently, preceded by his nose,
as cheerful as they were glum. Well! they had got the decree of
restitution, and what was the matter with that!

"Quite," said Soames in a suitably low voice, "but we shall have to
begin again to get evidence. He'll probably try the divorce--it will
look fishy if it comes out that we knew of misconduct from the start.
His questions showed well enough that he doesn't like this restitution
dodge."

"Pho!" said Mr. Bellby cheerily, "he'll forget! Why, man, he'll have
tried a hundred cases between now and then. Besides, he's bound by
precedent to give ye your divorce, if the evidence is satisfactory. We
won't let um know that Mrs. Dartie had knowledge of the facts. Dreamer
did it very nicely--he's got a fatherly touch about um!"

Soames nodded.

"And I compliment ye, Mrs. Dartie," went on Mr. Bellby; "ye've a natural
gift for giving evidence. Steady as a rock."

Here the waiter arrived with three plates balanced on one arm, and the
remark: "I 'urried up the pudden, sir. You'll find plenty o' lark in it
to-day."

Mr. Bellby applauded his forethought with a dip of his nose. But Soames
and Winifred looked with dismay at their light lunch of gravified
brown masses, touching them gingerly with their forks in the hope of
distinguishing the bodies of the tasty little song-givers. Having begun,
however, they found they were hungrier than they thought, and finished
the lot, with a glass of port apiece. Conversation turned on the war.
Soames thought Ladysmith would fall, and it might last a year.