“When I arrived in London I took a room at this Club, of which I have been a member for some years, and reported immediately at the Admiralty. But there, in spite of all diligence on my part, I was quite unable to learn what was wanted of me. Of course, I could have gone to my Uncle, who is in the government, and perhaps he might have enlightened me, although he has nothing to do with the Navy, but I rather like to avoid Uncle Metgurne. He brought me up since I was a small boy, and seems unnecessarily ashamed of the result. It is his son who is the attache’ in St. Petersburg that I spoke to you about.” Dorothy ceased reading for a moment. “Metgurne, Metgurne,” she said to herself. “Surely I know that name?” She laid down the letter, pressed the electric button, and unlocked the door. When the servant came, she said: “Will you ask at the office if they have any biographical book of reference relating to Great Britain, and if so, please bring it to me.” The servant appeared shortly after with a red book which proved to be an English “Who’s Who” dated two years back. Turning the pages she came to Metgurne. “Metgurne, twelfth Duke of, created 1681, Herbert George Alan.” Here followed a number of other titles, the information that the son and heir was Marquis of Thaxted, and belonged to the Diplomatic Service, that Lord Metgurne was H. M. Secretary of State for Royal Dependencies; finally a list of residences and clubs. She put down the book and resumed the letter. “I think I ought to have told you that when I reach St. Petersburg I shall be as anxious to avoid my cousin Thaxted as I am to steer clear of his father in London. So I sat in my club, and read the papers. Dear me, this is evidently going to be a very long letter. I hope you won’t mind. I think perhaps you may be interested in learning how they do things over here.