At eleven o'clock, Blatchford came to the door. His ordinarily stoical features bore signs of a great, though subdued excitement. I had a fleeting glimpse of Britton in the distance,--a sort of passing shadow, as it were. "A note for you, sir, if you please," said he. He was holding the salver almost on a level with his nose. It seemed to me that he was looking at it out of the corner of his eye. My heart--my incomprehensible heart--gave a leap that sent the blood rushing to my face. He advanced, not with his usual imposing tread but with a sprightliness that pleased me vastly. I took the little pearl grey envelope from the salver, and carelessly glanced at the superscription. There was a curious ringing in my ears. "Thank you, Blatchford; that will do." "I beg pardon, sir, but there is to be an answer." "Oh," said I. I had the feeling that at least fifty eyes were upon me, although I am bound to admit that both Poopendyke and the footman were actively engaged in looking in another direction. I tore open the envelope. "_Have you deserted me entirely? Won't you please come and see me? Thanks 'for the violets, but I can't talk to violets, you know. Please come up for luncheon._" I managed to dash off a brief note in a fairly nonchalant manner. Blatchford almost committed the unpardonable crime of slamming the door behind him, he was in such a hurry to be off with the message. Then I went over and stood above Mr. Poopendyke. "Mr. Poopendyke," said I slowly, darkly, "what do you know about those violets?" He quailed. "I hope you don't mind, Mr. Smart. It's all right. I put one of your cards in, so that there couldn't be any mistake." CHAPTER XIII I VISIT AND AM VISITED Halfway up the winding stairways, I paused in some astonishment. It had just occurred to me that I was going up the steps two at a time and that my heart was beating like mad. I reflected. Here was I racing along like a schoolboy, and wherefor? What occasion was there for such unseemly haste? In the first place, it was now but a few minutes after eleven, and she had asked me for luncheon; there was no getting around that. At best luncheon was two hours off. So why was I galloping like this? The series of self-inflicted questions found me utterly unprepared; I couldn't answer one of them. My brain somehow couldn't get at them intelligently; I was befuddled. I progressed more slowly, more deliberately, finally coming to a full stop in a sitting posture in one of the window casements, where I lighted a cigarette and proceeded to thresh the thing out in my mind before going any farther.