pied with my chauffeur,
you may have noticed a young man who came out of the tailors' just
before I did. That was my son."

"Oh!" exclaimed Miss Winstock, "the boy who drove off in Lady Massulam's
car?"

"Was that Lady Massulam?" asked Mr. Prohack before he had had time to
recover from the immense effect of hearing the startling, almost
legendary name of Lady Massulam in connection with his son.

"Of course," said Miss Winstock. "Didn't you know?"

Mr. Prohack ignored her pertness.

"Well," he proceeded, having now successfully concealed his emotion,
"after having dealt as I suggest with my wife and children, you will
deal with my affairs. You shall have the same salary as Mr. Carrel Quire
paid--or forgot to pay. Do you agree or not?"

"I should love it," replied Miss Winstock with enthusiasm.

"What is your Christian name?"

"Mimi."

"So it is. I remember now. Well, it won't do at all. Never mention it
again, please."

When he had accompanied Mimi to a neighbouring post office and sent off
a suitable telegram of farewell to Mr. Carrel Quire in her name, Mr.
Prohack abandoned her till the morrow, and drove off quickly to pick up
his wife for the Grand Babylon lunch.

"I am a perfect lunatic," said he to himself. "It must be the effect of
riches. However, I don't care."

He meant that he didn't care about the conceivable consequences of
engaging Mimi Winstock as secretary. But what he did care about was the
conjuncture of Lady Massulam and Charlie.

CHAPTER XIII

FURTHER IDLENESS

I

Strange, inconceivable as it may appear to people of the great world and
readers of newspapers, Mr. Prohack, C.B., had never in his life before
been inside the Grand Babylon Hotel. Such may be the narrow and mean
existence forced by circumstances upon secretly powerful servants of the
Crown. He arrived late, owing to the intricate preparations of his wife
and daughter for Charlie's luncheon. These two were unsuccessfully
pretending not to be nervous, and their nervousness reacted upon Mr.
Prohack, who perceived with disgust that his gay and mischievous mood of
the morning was slipping away from him despite his efforts to retain it.
He knew now definitely that his health had taken the right turn, and yet
he could not prod the youthful Sissie as he had prodded the youthful
Mimi Winstock. Moreover Mimi was a secret which would have to be
divulged, and this secret not only weighed heavy within him, but seemed
distu