other places. I knew of several. As
Captain Burns was so rich, he might hire one, and let it to the Princess
Avalesco.

For a moment he brightened, but a sudden thought obscured him, like a
cloud.

"Not places with twisted chimneys!" he groaned.

This brought me up short. I stubbed my brain against that twisted
chimney! But when I'd recovered from the blow, I raised my head. "Yes,
places with twisted chimneys! At least, _one_ such place."

"Ah, Hampton Court. You said the only other twisted chimney was there."

"The _advertisement_ said that."

"Well----"

"It's a pity," I admitted, "that I thought of the twisted chimney. It
was an unnecessary extravagance, though I meant well. But it never would
have occurred to me as an extra lure if I hadn't known about a house
where such a chimney exists. The one house of the kind I ever heard of
except Hampton Court."

Terry sprang to his feet, a changed man, young and vital.

"Can we get it?"

"Ah, if I knew! But we can try. If you don't care what you pay?"

"I don't. Not a--hang."

I, too, jumped up, and took from my desk a bulky volume--Burke. This I
brought back to my chair, and sat down with it on my lap. On one knee
beside me, Terry Burns watched me turn the pages. At "Sc" I stopped, to
read aloud all about the Scarletts. But before beginning I warned Terry:
"I never knew any of the Scarletts myself," I said, "but I've heard my
grandmother say they were the wickedest family in England, which meant a
lot from _her_. She wasn't exactly a _saint_!"

We learned from the book what I had almost forgotten, that Lord
Scarlett, the eleventh baron, held the title because his elder brother,
Cecil, had died in Australia unmarried. He, himself, was married, with
one young son, his wife being the daughter of a German wine merchant.

As I read, I remembered the gossip heard by my childish ears. "Bertie
Scarlett," as Grandmother called him, was not only the wickedest, but
the poorest peer in England according to her--too poor to live at Dun
Moat, his place in Devonshire, my own county. The remedy was
marriage--with an heiress. He tried America. Nothing doing. The girls he
invited to become Lady Scarlett drew the line at anything beneath an
earl. Or perhaps his reputation was against him. There were many people
who knew he was unpopular at Court; unpopular being the mildest word
possible. And he was middle-aged and far from good-looking. So the best
he could manage was a Ger