ner, however, went far towards disarming resentment. He
was suave, restrained and exceedingly apologetic.

"If I have taken a liberty in coming to see you, Lady Dredlinton, without
a direct invitation, I am going to apologise right away," he said. "I
don't get much of an opportunity of a chat with you while the others are
all around, and I felt this afternoon like taking my chance of finding
you at home."

"I am always glad to see my husband's friends," Josephine replied a
little stiffly. "As a matter of fact, however, I was surprised to see you
because I left word that I was at home to only one caller."

"Fortunate person!" Mr. Phipps declared with a sigh. "May I sit down?"

"Certainly," was the somewhat cold assent. "If you really have anything
to say to me, perhaps you had better let me know what it is at once."

Peter Phipps was a man whose life had been spent in facing and
overcoming difficulties, but as he took the chair to which Josephine
had somewhat ungraciously pointed, he was compelled to admit to himself
that he was confronted with a task which might well tax his astuteness
to the utmost. To begin with he made use of one of his favourite
weapons,--silence. He sat quite still, studying the situation, and in
those few moments Josephine found herself studying him. He was tall, over
six feet, with burly shoulders, a thickset body, and legs rather short
for his height. He was clean-shaven, his hair was a sandy grey, his
complexion florid, his eyes blue and piercing. His upper lip was long,
and his mouth, when closed, rather resembled some sort of a trap. He was
dressed with care, almost with distinction. But for his pronounced
American accent, he would probably have been taken for a Scandinavian.

"Did you come here to improve your acquaintance with the interior
of my sitting room?" Josephine asked, a little irritated at last by
his silence.

He shook his head.

"I should say not. I came, Lady Dredlinton, to talk to you about
your husband."

"Then if you will allow me to say so," Josephine replied, "you have come
upon a very purposeless errand. I do not discuss my husband with any one,
for reasons which I think we need not go into."

Peter Phipps leaned forward in his chair. It was a favourite attitude of
his, and one which had won him many successes.

"See here, Lady Dredlinton," he began, "you don't like me. That's my
misfortune, but it don't affect the matter as it stands at present
between us. I