y him from a' he tauld us in his cups. He
gave us her name,--the oddest in a' the warld for sure,--I canna just
remember it."

"I can," said Duprez glibly. "It struck me as quaint and pretty--Thelma
Gueldmar."

Errington started so violently, and flushed so deeply, that Lorimer was
afraid of some rash outbreak of wrath on his part. But he restrained
himself by a strong effort. He merely took his cigar from his mouth and
puffed a light cloud of smoke into the air before replying, then he said
coldly--

"I should say Mr. Dyceworthy, besides being a drunkard, is a most
consummate liar. It so happens that the Gueldmars are the very people I
have just visited,--highly superior in every way to anybody we have yet
met in Norway. In fact, Mr. and Miss Gueldmar will come on board
to-morrow. I have invited them to dine with us; you will then be able to
judge for yourselves whether the young lady is at all of the description
Mr. Dyceworthy gives of her."

Duprez and Macfarlane exchanged astonished looks.

"Are ye quite sure," the latter ventured to remark cautiously, "that
ye're prudent in what ye have done? Remember ye have asked no pairson at
a' to dine with ye as yet,--it's a vera sudden an' exceptional freak o'
hospitality."

Errington smoked on peacefully and made no answer. Duprez hummed a verse
of a French _chansonnette_ under his breath and smiled. Lorimer glanced
at him with a lazy amusement.

"Unburden yourself, Pierre, for heaven's sake!" he said. "Your mind is
as uncomfortable as a loaded camel. Let it lie down, while you take off
its packages, one by one, and reveal their contents. In short, what's
up?"

Duprez made a rapid, expressive gesture with his hands.

"_Mon cher_, I fear to displease Phil-eep! He has invited these people;
they are coming,--_bien_! there is no more to say."

"I disagree with ye," interposed Macfarlane "I think Errington should
hear what _we_ ha' heard; it's fair an' just to a mon that he should
understand what sort o' folk are gaun to pairtake wi' him at his table.
Ye see, Errington, ye should ha' thought a wee, before inviting pairsons
o' unsettled an' dootful chairacter--"

"Who says they are?" demanded Errington half-angrily. "The drunken
Dyceworthy?"

"He was no sae drunk at the time he tauld us." persisted Macfarlane in
his most obstinate, most dictatorial manner. "Ye see, it's just this
way--"

"Ah, _pardon_!" interrupted Duprez briskly. "Our dear Sandy is an
excellent