wise he was, how considerate, how worthy of the
treasure that her overflowing heart would heap on him! But it could
not be. She dared not face her father, her relatives, her host of
friends, and confess with proud humility that she had found her mate
in some unknown Englishman, the hired driver of a motor-car. At any
rate, in that moment of exquisite agony, Cynthia did not know what she
might dare when put to the test. Her lips parted, her eyes glistened,
and she turned aside to gaze blindly at the distant Welsh hills.

"If we don't hurry," she said with the slowness of desperation, "we
shall never complete our programme by nightfall.... And we must not
forget that Mrs. Leland awaits us at Chester."

"To-night I shall realize the feelings of Charles the First when he
witnessed the defeat of his troops at the battle of Rowton Moor," was
Medenham's savage growl.

Hardly aware of her own words, Cynthia murmured:

"Though defeated, the poor king did not lose hope."

"No: the Stuarts' only virtue was their stubbornness. By the way, I am
a Stuart."

"Evidently that is why you are flying from Chester," she contrived to
say with a little laugh.

"I pin my faith in the Restoration," he retorted. "It is a fair
parallel. It took Charles twenty years to reach Rowton Moor, but the
modern clock moves quicker, for I am there in five days."

"I am no good at dates----" she began, but Mrs. Devar discovered them
from afar, and fluttered a telegram. They hastened to her--Cynthia
flushed at the thought that she might be recalled to London--which she
would not regret, since a visit to the dentist to-day is better than
the toothache all next week--and Medenham steeled himself against
imminent unmasking.

But Mrs. Devar's main business in life was self.

"I have just heard from James," she cooed. "He promised to run up to
Shrewsbury to-day, but finds he cannot spare the time. Count Edouard
told him that Mr. Vanrenen was in town, and he regrets he was unable
to call before he left."

"Before who left?" demanded Cynthia.

"Your father, dear."

"Left for where?"

Mrs. Devar screwed her eyes at the pink slip.

"That is all it says. Just 'left'?"

"That doesn't sound right, anyhow," laughed Medenham.

"Oh, but this is too ridiculous!" and Cynthia's foot stamped. "I have
never before known my father behave in this Jack-in-the-Box fashion."

"Mrs. Leland will clear up the whole mystery," volunteered Medenham.

"But what myst