t of his pipe, and went to bed.

CHAPTER XXI

Rolfe went to Hyde Park next day and walked from the Tube station
to Holymead's house at Princes Gate. The servant who answered his
ring informed him, in reply to his question, that Mrs. Holymead was
"Not at home."

"Do you know when she will be home?" persisted Rolfe, forestalling an
evident desire on the servant's part to shut the door in his face.

The man looked at Rolfe doubtfully. Well-trained English servant though
he was, and used to summing up strangers at a glance, he could not quite
make out who Rolfe might be. But before he could come to a decision on
the point a feminine voice behind him said:

"What is it, Trappon?"

The servant turned quickly in the direction of the voice. "It's a
er--er--party who wants to see Madam, mademoiselle," he replied.

"_Parti?_ What mean you by _parti_? Explain yourself, Trappon."

"A person--a gentleman, mademoiselle," replied Trappon, determined to be
on the safe side.

"Open the door, Trappon, that I may see this gentleman."

Trappon somewhat reluctantly complied, and a young lady stepped forward.
She was tall and dark, with charming eyes which were also shrewd; she had
a fine figure which a tight-fitting dress displayed rather too boldly for
good taste, and she was sufficiently young to be able to appear quite
girlish in the half light.

"You wish to see Madame Holymead?" she said to Rolfe. Her manner was
engagingly pleasant and French.

Rolfe felt it incumbent upon him to be gallant in the presence of the
fair representative of a nation whom he vaguely understood placed
gallantry in the forefront of the virtues. He took off his hat with a
courtly bow.

"I do, mademoiselle," he replied, "and my business is important."

"Then, monsieur, step inside if you will be so good, and I will see you."

She led Rolfe to a small, prettily-furnished room at the end of the hall,
and carefully shut the door. Then she invited Rolfe to be seated, and
asked him to state his business.

But this was precisely what Rolfe was not anxious to do except to Mrs.
Holymead herself.

"My business is private, and must be placed before Mrs. Holymead," he
said firmly. "I wish to see her."

"I regret, monsieur, but Madame Holymead is out of town. She went last
week. If you had only come before she went"--Mademoiselle Chiron looked
genuinely sorry.

Rolfe was a little taken aback at this intelligence, and showed it.

"Out of tow