refutations, excuses and explanations. Mr. Medcroft finally waved every
one aside in the most _degage_ manner imaginable.

"Don't crowd me! Hang it all, I'm not a curiosity. There isn't anything
to go crazy about. My friend, Mr. Brock, has just done me a trifling
favour. That's all. The whole story will be in the London papers this
morning. Buy 'em. I'm going up to my wife's room to see my baby. I'll
come down and explain everything when I've had a bit of a breathing
spell. It's annoying to have had this fuss about a simple little matter
of generosity on the part of my friend, who, I've no doubt, has been a
most exemplary husband. I'll see to it, by Gad, that he receives the
proper apologies. And, for that matter, my wife may have something to
say about the outrage that has been perpetrated."

He took it all very much as if the world owed him an explanation and not
_vice versa_. As he was stalking from the room, Brock bethought himself
to ask,--

"When did you arrive, old man?"

"Last night on the 12.10. I registered as Smith. It was so late that I
decided not to disturb Edith. They said in the office that you'd gone to
bed, Brock. Now that I recall it, they said it in a very odd way too.
In fact, one of the clerks asked if I had it in for you too."

"You were here all night?" murmured Constance in plaintive misery.

"Well, not precisely all night, Connie. Half of it," replied Roxbury.
"Brock, you ass, I telegraphed you I was coming and asked you to meet me
at the station. I telegraphed twice from London and--"

"Don't call me an ass," grated Brock. "Why didn't you send 'em to me as
Medcroft? I haven't been Brock until this very morning."

"'Pon my soul, Brock, it was rather stupid of me," he confessed
sheepishly. "But, you see," with an inspired smile, "one of 'em was to
congratulate you on winning Connie. By Jove, you know, I _couldn't_ very
well address that one to myself."

"But--but he hadn't won me," stammered Constance Fowler.

"Edith," said Roxbury, deep reproach in his voice, "you wrote me that a
week ago!" Edith merely squeezed his arm.

Odell-Carney came forward and extended his hand. "Permit me to introduce
myself, sir. I am George Odell-Carney. It has given me great pleasure to
serve you without knowing you. In my catalogue of personalities you have
posed intermittently as a demmed bounder, a deceived husband, a betrayed
lover, a successful lover, and a lot of other things I can't just now
reca