the dinner at the Embassy to-morrow night, and pick out
what you fancy. Sykes can dump everything into an empty trunk for you,
and it can be put with yours on the back of the Grayles-Grice for you to
cart off to Hampstead."

I knew that if I wished to make sure of the booty, I had better take Di
at her word, for as likely as not she would change her mind in a day or
two, and offer the things to somebody else. I replied that I thought her
plan a very good one, and I would carry it out exactly as she proposed.

The next evening I went early to Park Lane, in order to unearth the
white velvet frock from the old trunk packed for Ireland, and dress
myself in it when it was found. Talking to Kitty and Di delayed me for a
few minutes, however, so that I had no time to waste when I ran up to
the shuttered room where my little trunk, as well as Sidney's things
from America, were in temporary storage. No one could be spared to help
me, as Di's maid and Kitty's had already begun to lay out their
mistresses' things for dinner. But I have been used all my life to
looking after myself. I didn't in the least mind grubbing on my knees to
unlock the box, finding the dress I wanted, and unwrapping it from
layers of tissue paper. As I stood up to shake the frock, and examine
anxiously as to its condition by the light of the electric lamp, which I
had switched on for the purpose, I saw many suits of Sidney Vandyke's
clothes neatly folded by Sykes, his valet, and piled on tables and
boxes.

It was too late then to look at the things before dressing, but I cast
an appraising glance in their direction, and my eyes lit upon what
seemed to be a khaki uniform, bundled ignominiously between a suit of
evening clothes and a crimson dressing-gown.

"Fancy his not having sentiment enough to keep his army things!" I
thought scornfully. "But, of course, he was never a real soldier at
heart, or he wouldn't have resigned, at his age, to be lazy and please
Diana! How different from----" But I wouldn't let myself even _think_
Eagle's name in that connection.

Fortunately I had packed away the white chiffon velvet with unusual care
(for me), and there were few creases in the soft folds which wouldn't
disappear eventually when I had put the frock on. As I dressed in a far
corner of Di's room (well out of her way and that of her maid,
Celestine, and managing my toilet operations as best I could with a
small hand glass) my thoughts would fly back to that