te,
it takes action with a very keen zest when once circumstance has
compelled a decisive step.

Having finished her dressing, she picked up a pair of gloves, switched
off the electric light, and left the room. In the corridor outside she
met one of the maids; but without giving the woman time to show any
surprise, she made haste to offer an explanation.

"I have forgotten to tell Miss Asshlin something of importance," she
said. "I shall have to drive to the theatre and see her. Please ring
for the lift. The porter will find me a cab." And without waiting to
observe the effect of the somewhat disjointed statement, she passed to
the hall door.

A few minutes later the hall porter had put her into a hansom, telling
the cabman to drive to the Apollo Theatre.

While the cab doors were being closed, and the order given, Clodagh sat
very still; and for a few minutes after they had started, she lay back
in her seat, watching the familiar succession of lights and trees and
indistinct massed faces that form the nightly picture between
Knightsbridge and Piccadilly; but at last, as Hyde Park Corner loomed
into view, she sat upright, and raising her hand, shook the roof trap.

The cabman checked the pace of his horse and, opening the little door,
looked down.

"Don't mind the Apollo," she said. "Drive to Carlton House Terrace
instead."

The man muttered an assent, and, wheeling his horse to the right, cut
across the traffic.

Five or six minutes passed while the cab threaded its way across the
Green Park, past Buckingham Palace into St. James's Park; then Clodagh
gained her first close view of Deerehurst's town house. For one moment
she felt daunted by the unfamiliarity of its aspect; but the next, she
rallied her determination, and, stepping from the cab, paid her fare
and walked resolutely across the pavement to the imposing door.

It was opened at once by a servant in very sombre and decorous livery;
who, having thrown the door wide, looked at her, then looked at the
cab, just wheeling away from the kerb. There was nothing uncivil in the
man's glance--nothing that one could reasonably complain of--yet, to
her intense annoyance, Clodagh coloured.

"Is Lord Deerehurst at home?" she asked.

The servant's eyes left the retreating cab.

"Have you an appointment with his lordship?"

"If he is in, Lord Deerehurst will see me. I am Mrs. Milbanke."

At the coldness of her tone, and her ready mention of her name, his
ma