ve been
taken in! She would have engaged all the Hannahs--she says that
murderesses are always called Hannah--as housekeepers, they looked so
respectable--except for the glassy eye. Oh, we had a long talk. Yes, and
she'll bring her sister. You might come, too, one afternoon."

"Oh, of course I'll come. It would be rather jolly," said Woodville.

"Well, when this new thing is once out we'll fix it up, eh? I shall see
Lady Chetwode to-morrow--at your party."

"Oh, are you coming?"

"Oh, yes I'm going. Every one's going."

At this moment they heard outside the house a tremendous uproar, the
snorting, panting, puffing, and agonised throbbing that could only
proceed from a motor in distress.

"Who's that?" said Woodville, going to look out of the window.

Mervyn closed his eyes and leant back in his chair.

"It's nothing," he said. "It's Bertie--Bertie Wilton, you know."

"Oh! Good. Bertie's always exhilarating."

CHAPTER VI

AN AGREEABLE RATTLE

A moment later there entered the room a slim, good-looking young man of
about twenty-five years old, whose eyes were very bright and whose
clothes were very smart, and who gave the impression of being at once in
the highest spirits and at least a year in advance of the very latest
expression of the mode. He was very fair, clean shaven, with smooth
blond hair, white teeth, and the most mischievous smile in London.

Bertie Wilton had the reputation of being the wittiest of all the
dandies, but his one great weakness was a mania for being _dans le
mouvement_, and a certain contempt for any ideas, however valuable, that
had been suggested earlier than, say, yesterday afternoon. Extremely
good-natured, lively, and voluble, he was immensely popular, being
considered, as indeed he was, one of the last of the conversationalists.
He might be frivolous, but he was always interesting. He could talk
about anything--and he did.

"I didn't know you'd got a motor, Bertie," said Woodville.

Wilton looked at it lovingly out of the window, arranged the gardenia in
his button-hole, and said--

"Oh yes! I'm mad on motors. I've had three! This is my new toy. It's a
ripper, the only _right_ kind. It _can_ go, I'll say that for it. I've
been fined twice for exceeding the speed limit already."

"But you've never done anything else," said Woodville.

Bertie laughed.

"Ah! no; perhaps not. Well, anyway, I simply love it. I haven't even
come here this morning _merely_ to see yo