"Hughie," she said, in tones which her husband subsequently affirmed would have drawn ducks off a pond, "what have you done? Tell _us_!" Leroy followed his wife across the room. "Get it off your chest, old man," he said, with the air of a father confessor. Hughie smiled gratefully. He took Mrs. Leroy's two hands into one of his own, and laid the other on Jack Leroy's shoulder. "Jack and Milly," he said earnestly, "my two pals!--I would rather tell you than anybody else; but--I simply _can't_! It's not my secret! You'll probably find out all about it some day. At present I must ask you to accept my assurance that I'm not so black as I'm painted." "Hughie," said Mrs. Leroy, "you are simply stupid! We have not come to you out of idle curiosity--" "I know that," said Hughie heartily. "And I think you might give us some sort of an inkling--a sort of favourable bulletin--that I could pass on to Joey, at any rate--" "Joey!" said Hughie involuntarily; "Lord forbid!" Mrs. Leroy, startled by the vehemence of his tone, paused; and her husband added dejectedly,-- "All right, old man! Let's drop it! Sorry you couldn't see your way to confide in us. Wouldn't have gone any further. Rather sick about the whole business--eh? No wonder! Money is the devil, anyway." Somehow Leroy's words hit Hughie harder than anything that had been said yet. He wavered. After all,-- "We've bought the hat, and I'm perfectly _ravenous_," announced Joan, appearing in the doorway. "And we've brought Mr. D'Arcy. Hughie, are those plover's eggs? Ooh!" This was no atmosphere for the breathing of confidential secrets. The party resumed its usual demeanour of off-hand British _insouciance_, and began to gather round the luncheon-table. Only Mr. D'Arcy's right eyebrow asked a question of Mrs. Leroy, which was answered by a slight but regretful shrug of the shoulders. Hughie's apartment was L-shaped, and the feast was spread in the smaller arm, out of the way of draughts and doorways. Consequently any one entering the room would fail to see the luncheon table unless he turned to his left and walked round a corner. Hughie was helping the plover's eggs,--it is to be feared that Miss Gaymer received a Benjamin's portion of the same,--when Mr. Goble suddenly appeared at his elbow and whispered in his ear,-- "Him again!" Muttering an apology, Hughie left the table and walked round the corner to the other arm of the room. Lance Gaymer had just entered. His face was flushed and his eyes glittered, and Hughie's half-uttered invitation to him to come in and have some lunch died away upon his lips. "Hallo, Lance!" he said lamely. Mr. Gaymer replied, in the deliberate and portentously solemn tones of a man who is three parts drunk,-- "I understand you have got a party on here." "Yes," said Hughie, endeavouring to edge his visitor through the doorway.