etokened that he could not
regard the situation seriously. When the door was closed Tony turned
apologetically to his companion-in-arms.

"Awfully sorry, old chap," he said, "but it was one of those things that
had to be. You quite see that, I hope?"

"_Krwx!_" said the gnome, weeping. "_Krwx! airp--krwx!_"

CHAPTER XV

A CHANGE OF LODGING

At the club-house Lionel put his name down for a week's membership,
thinking it might be useful. He learned from the local professional in
the course of a short chat that there were only some half-dozen players
out that afternoon, all being men. Mizzi, therefore, had not assumed the
disguise of a golfer, though she might be waiting somewhere on the
horizon at an appointed trysting-place. The ambassador drove from the
first tee while they were talking: he was playing a solitary game
against bogey, who--judging from the first three shots--appeared likely
to win. The fact that he did not take a caddy might mean anything--a
sense of shame or an expected meeting with Mizzi. Lionel, that he might
have a reasonable excuse for keeping him under observation, borrowed
some clubs from the pro. on the plea that his own had not yet arrived.
He had not played golf for years, but trusted that some of his ancient
skill might still remain,--enough, at least, to justify his appearance
on the links.

The scheme, however, produced little, for there was no sign of Mizzi.
Lionel played slowly, keeping a methodical hole behind all the way. At
the fifteenth, however, he caught up with his quarry. In a moment of
ill-judged enthusiasm, and fired by the thrill of a superlative
brassie-shot, he went all out for his third. It was a long hole--bogey
five--and there was a deep bunker guarding the green. Lionel, after some
consideration, took the mashie in preference to the iron. It was a
mistake, for the green was farther than he thought. He made a beautiful
full shot that flew straight but fell short, deep in the heart of the
bunker. "Spoilt it!" thought Lionel with natural melancholy. "Ah! well!
Not so bad, considering I haven't played for so long."

As he walked on he remembered with a pang that he had forgotten the
ambassador. In the pleasure excited by a perfect drive, a perfect
brassie-shot, and an ill-fated, ill-judged, but clean full mashie, he
had lost sight of the other's existence. Now he was nowhere to be seen.
"Confound it!" thought Lionel uneasily; "what a kid I am to get carried
awa