his topper, clap it on his head,
and make for the door with footsteps whose stuttering haste was in poor
accord with the dignity of his exalted station.

But it was debatable whether this satisfaction plus the possession of a
questionable Corot was worth its cost. And Lanyard wasn't in the humour,
now that the heat of contest began to abate, to look to Princess Sofia for
promise of further reward. Even if he could have been guilty of such
impertinence, indeed, he must have forborne for very shame. After all (he
told himself) he hadn't figured very creditably, permitting petty prejudice
to sway him as it had. He felt singularly sure he had played the gratuitous
ass in this affair, and he didn't in the least desire to see the reflection
of a like conviction in the eyes of a pretty young woman with a flair for
the ridiculous.

He dissembled his diminished self-esteem, however, most successfully, as he
proceeded to the desk of the auctioneer's clerk, filled in a cheque for the
amount of his purchase, and gave instructions for its delivery.

Whether by intention or inadvertence, he was followed from the auction room
by the Princess Sofia and Lady Diantha Mainwaring; and just outside the
entrance he found Prince Victor waiting with all the air of a gentleman
impatient for a cab to happen along and pick him up out of the drizzle.

But in view of the fact that he made no overtures to a passing hansom,
which swerved in to the curb in response to a signal of Lanyard's cane,
this last concluded that the prince was up to his reputedly favourite game
of waylaying his rebel wife.

If such were the case, Lanyard had no wish to witness a public wrangle
between the two. So he stepped briskly up on the carriage-block, and only
hesitated when he saw that the prince, utterly ignoring the presence of the
princess and Lady Diantha, was edging forward and cocking an alert ear to
catch the address which Lanyard was on the point of giving the cabby.

Hugely diverted, the adventurer looked round with a quirk of his brows, and
amiably commented:

"Monsieur's interest is so flattering! If he really must know, I'm going
home now, to my rooms in Halfmoon Street. Au revoir, monsieur le prince!"

He beamed benignly upon that convulsed countenance, and saw crestfallen
Prince Victor slink away, to the music of smothered laughter from the
ladies in the doorway--toward which Lanyard was careful not to look.

Then, in high feather with himself, he