country-house visit was nothing but
shooting in the daytime and unmitigated boredom in the evening. Really
he didn't know what to do with himself. This alarming state of mind
might have issued in some incongruous activity of a useful sort, had not
he been rescued from it by the sudden discovery that he had a mission.
This revelation dawned upon him in consequence of a note he received
from Lord Rickmansworth. It appeared that that nobleman had very soon
got tired of his moor, had resigned it into the eager hands of Bob
Territon, and was now at Baden-Baden. This was certainly odd, and the
writer evidently knew it would appear so; he therefore appended an
explanation which was entirely satisfactory to Sir Roderick, but which
is, happily, irrelevant to the purposes of this story. What is more to
the purpose, it further appeared that Mrs. Welman, Kate Bernard's aunt,
had discarded Buxton in favor of the same resort, and that Mr.
Haddington, M. P., had also "proceeded" thither.

"They are at the Victoria," wrote Rickmansworth; "I am at the
Badischerhof, and--[irrelevant matter]. I go about a good deal with
them, but it's beastly slow. Haddington is all day in Kate's pocket, and
Kate at best isn't amusing. But what's Lane up to? Do come out here, old
fellow. I'll find you some amusement. Who do you think is here
with--[more irrelevant matter]."

Sir Roderick was influenced in part, no doubt, by the irrelevant matter.
But he also felt that what concerns us concerned him. He had come to a
very definite conclusion that Kate Bernard ought not to marry Eugene
Lane. He was also sure that unless something was done the marriage would
take place. Kate did not care for Eugene, but the match was too good to
be given up. Eugene would never face the turmoil necessary to break it
off.

"I am the man," said Sir Roderick to himself. "I couldn't catch the
parson, but if I can't catch Miss Kate, call me an ass!"

And he took train to Baden, sending off a wire to Morewood to join him
if he could, for a considerable friendship existed between them.
Morewood, however, wouldn't come, and Ayre was forced to make the
journey in solitude.

"I thought I should bring him!" exclaimed Lord Rickmansworth
triumphantly, as he received his friend on the platform, and conducted
him to a very perfect drag which stood at the door. "Oh, you old thief!"

Rickmansworth was a tall, broad, reddish-faced young man, with a jovial
laugh, infinite capacity for b