es's Park and, evidently according to orders, the chauffeur
drove very slowly. There were two men inside, talking very earnestly.
One of them was Hugh; the other was--well, the most important man at the
War Office, who seldom, as you know, speaks to any one."

"You mean to say that he was alone, talking confidentially with Hugh?"
Geraldine exclaimed incredulously.

"He was, dear," her mother assented, "and it made me think. That's all.
I have a fancy that some day when the time comes that Hugh is free to
talk, he will be able to interest you--well, quite as much as Captain
Granet.... Now then, dear, hurry. There's the car at the door for you
and you haven't your hat on."

Geraldine went upstairs a little thoughtfully. As she drew on her
gloves, she looked down at the empty space upon her third finger. For a
moment there was almost a lump in her throat.

CHAPTER XVI

The two men who had walked up together arm in arm from Downing Street,
stood for several moments in Pall Mall before separating. The pressman
who was passing yearned for the sunlight in his camera. One of the
greatest financiers of the city in close confabulation with Mr. Gordon
Jones, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, was an interesting, almost an
historical sight.

"It is a source of the greatest satisfaction to me, Sir Alfred," the
Minister was saying earnestly, "to find such royal and whole-hearted
support in the city. I am afraid," he went on, with a little twinkle
in his eyes, "that there are times when I have scarcely been popular in
financial circles."

"We have hated you like poison," the other assured him, with emphasis.

"The capitalists must always hate the man who tries to make wealth pay
its just share in the support of the Empire," Mr. Gordon Jones remarked.
"The more one has, the less one likes to part with it. However, those
days have passed. You bankers have made my task easier at every turn.
You have met me in every possible way. To you personally, Sir Alfred, I
feel that some day I shall have to express my thanks--my thanks and the
thanks of the nation--in a more tangible form."

"You are very kind," the banker acknowledged. "Times like this change
everything. We remember only that we are Englishmen."

The Minister hailed a passing taxi and disappeared. The banker
strolled slowly along Pall Mall and passed through the portals of an
august-looking club. The hall-porter relieved him of his coat and
hat with great deference. A