t to an interview?" Chris asked,
demurely.

"A man I expect you never heard of," said Littimer, "but who is quite
familiar to Henson here. I am alluding to that scoundrel Hatherly Bell."

"Good heavens!" Henson burst out. "I--I mean, what colossal impudence!"

CHAPTER XXIX

THE MAN WITH THE THUMB AGAIN

Chris gave Henson one swift searching glance before her eyes dropped
demurely to the ground. Lord Littimer appeared to be taking no heed of
anything but his own annoyance. But quick as Chris had been, Henson was
quicker. He was smiling the slow, sad smile of the man who turns the
other cheek because it is his duty to do so.

"And when does Dr. Bell arrive?" he asked.

"He won't arrive at all," Littimer said, irritably. "Do you suppose I
am going to allow that scoundrel under my roof again? The amazing
impudence of the fellow is beyond everything. He will probably reach
Moreton Station by the ten o'clock train. The drive will take him an
hour, if I choose to permit the drive, which I don't. I'll send a groom
to meet the train with a letter. When Bell has read that letter he will
not come here."

"I don't think I should do that," Henson said, respectfully.

"Indeed! You are really a clever fellow. And what would you do?"

"I should suffer Bell to come. As a Christian I should deem it my duty to
do so. It pains me to say so, but I am afraid that I cannot contravert
your suggestion that Bell is a scoundrel. It grieves me to prove any man
that. And in the present instance the proofs were overpowering. But there
is always a chance--a chance that we have misjudged a man on false
evidence."

"False evidence! Why, the Rembrandt was actually found in Bell's
portmanteau."

"Dear friend, I know it," Henson said, with the same slow, forgiving
smile. "But there have been cases of black treachery, dark conspiracies
that one abhors. And Bell might have made some stupendous discovery
regarding his character. I should see him, my lord; oh, yes, I should
most undoubtedly see him."

"And so should I," Chris put in, swiftly.

Littimer smiled, with all traces of his ill-temper gone. He seemed to
be contemplating Henson with his head on one side, as if to fathom
that gentleman's intentions. There was just the suspicion of contempt
in his glance.

"In the presence of so much goodness and beauty I feel quite lost," he
said. "Very well, Henson, I'll see Bell. I may find the interview
diverting."

Henson strolled away