g. I have discovered a
new dramatist, and I am going to produce a play of his within three
months, I hope. I shan't tell you his name and I shan't tell you anything
about the play, except that I find more promise in it than anything I
have seen or read for months. Mr. Romilly, please wait for me," she
called after him. "I want to point out some of the buildings to you."

A dark young man, wearing eyeglasses, with a notebook and pencil in his
hand, swung around.

"Is this Mr. Douglas Romilly," he enquired, "of the Romilly Shoe Company?
I am from the _New York Star_. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Romilly. You are
over here on business, we understand?"

Philip was taken aback and for the moment remained speechless.

"We'd like to know your reason, Mr. Romilly, for paying us a visit," the
young man continued, "in your own words. How long a trip do you intend to
make, anyway? What might your output be in England per week? Women's
shoes and misses', isn't it?"

Elizabeth intervened swiftly, shaking her finger at the journalist.

"Mr. Harris," she said, "Mr. Romilly is my friend, and I am not going to
have him spend these few impressive moments, when he ought to be looking
about him at the harbour, telling you silly details about his business.
You can call upon him at his hotel, if you like--the Waldorf he is going
to, I believe--and I am sure he will tell you anything you want to know."

"That's all right, Miss Dalstan," the young man declared soothingly. "See
you later, Mr. Romilly," he added. "Maybe you'll let us have a few of
your impressions to work in with the other stuff."

Romilly made light of the matter, but there was a slight frown upon his
forehead as they passed along the curiously stationary deck.

"I am afraid," he observed, "that this is going to be a terribly hard
country to disappear in."

"Don't you believe it," she replied cheerfully. "You arrive here to-day
and you are in request everywhere. To-morrow you are forgotten--some
one else arrives. That newspaper man scarcely remembers your existence at
the present moment. He has discovered Mr. Raymond Greene.... Tell me, why
do you look so white and unhappy?"

"I am sorry the voyage is over," he confessed.

"So am I, for that matter," she assented. "I have loved every minute of
the last few days, but then we knew all the time, didn't we, that it was
just an interlude? The things which lie before us are so full of
interest."

"It is the next few hours