riend,
she, with her daughter and Da Souza, re-entered the gates of the Lodge.
The young ladies had announced their intention of sitting in the fly
until they were allowed speech with their late host; to which he had
replied that they were welcome to sit there until doomsday so long as
they remained outside his gates. Mr. Da Souza lingered for a moment
behind and laid his finger upon his nose.

"It ain't no use, my dears," he whispered confidentially. "He's fairly
got the hump. Between you and me he'd give a bit not to have us, but me
and him being old friends--you see, we know a bit about one another."

"Oh, that's it, is it?" Miss Montressor remarked, with a toss of her
head. "Well, you and your wife and your little chit of a daughter are
welcome to him so far as we are concerned, aren't they, Flossie?"

"Well, I should say so," agreed the young lady, who rather affected
Americanisms.

Da Souza stroked his little imperial, and winked solemnly.

"You are young ladies of spirit," he declared. "Now--"

"Hiram!"

"I am coming, my dear," he called over his shoulder. "One word more, my
charming young friends! No. 7, Racket's Court, City, is my address.
Look in sometime when you're that way, and we'll have a bit of lunch
together, and just at present take my advice. Get back to London and
write him from there. He is not in a good humour at present."

"We are much obliged, Mr. Da Souza," the young lady answered loftily.
"As we have engagements in London this afternoon, we may as well go
now--eh, Flossie?"

"Right along," answered the young lady, "I'm with you, but as to writing
Mr. Trent, you can tell him from me, Mr. Da Souza, that we want to have
nothing more to do with him. A fellow that can treat ladies as he has
treated us is no gentleman. You can tell him that. He's an ignorant,
common fellow, and for my part I despise him."

"Same here," echoed Miss Montressor, heartily. "We ain't used to
associate with such as him!"

"Hiram!"

Mr. Da Souza raised his hat and bowed; the ladies were tolerably
gracious and the fly drove off. Whereupon Mr. Da Souza followed his wife
and daughter along the drive and caught them up upon the doorstep. With
mingled feelings of apprehension and elation he ushered them into the
morning-room where Trent was standing looking out of the window with his
hands behind him. At their entrance he did not at once turn round. Mr.
Da Souza coughed apologetically.

"Here we are, my friend,"