She gave her counsellor a shy but grateful glance, and departed down the street--a well-dressed, well-carried, and well-bred figure. Next morning Montagu Falconer, after a disturbed and introspective night, came down to breakfast at ten o'clock, and dismally surveyed Tite Street through the dining-room window. There was a piercing east wind, which penetrated through every nook and cranny. Peggy had breakfasted an hour ago. Montagu rang the bell for his coffee, and shivered. He was feeling stiff in the joints this morning: could it be rheumatism? He would like to consult some one about this. But of course there was no one to consult. His daughter, naturally, was not at her post: she was downstairs ordering dinner, or something of that kind. Besides, it could not be rheumatism: rheumatism was an old man's complaint. Old man! Old men suggested thoughts of Adolphus Prince. He had some one to consult about _his_ troubles: he could take them to Jean. Montagu consigned Adolphus to perdition. Who was Adolphus Prince, to monopolise-- Next moment Montagu, seized with a sudden idea, was at the telephone. "Number, please?" said a haughty voice. "I want seven-six-seven-one Chelsea, and I'm in a devil of a hurry," he replied frantically; "so put me on as quick--" "Br-r-r-r-r-! Ch'k! Number engaged," announced the instrument dispassionately. Montagu hung up the receiver, and swore. He was quite panic-stricken by this time. So Adolphus Prince rang her up at ten o'clock in the morning, did he? He would show the old dotard who was the better man! Five minutes later he had secured his call, and was inviting Miss Leslie to lunch with him at the Ritz. CHAPTER XXVII THE SECOND BEST "WHERE shall we go to-night?" enquired the insatiable Dumps. "Bed," replied her exhausted papa, before any one else could speak. The Joy-Week was nearly over. For five days and nights the newly emancipated Miss Sylvia Mablethorpe had been allowed a free hand. Each morning she had conducted her mother relentlessly to shops. Once or twice her devoted father had accompanied the expedition, but after being twice warned by an officious young policeman for loitering outside a modiste's in Dover Street, had excused himself from further attendance.