The lady seemed bewildered. She stared at him as if she could not believe her eyes and ears. The door through which Hubert had just entered from the grounds was re-opened at his back. A figure glided past him. It was the young girl from whom he had just parted--in not too cordial a manner. She went straight to the lady, slipping her arm through hers. "Mamma, Mr. Buxton has declined to acknowledge my acquaintance as he declined to acknowledge yours. I think I can give you a sufficient reason for his doing so, if you will come with me, dear mother." "Hetty!" murmured the elder woman, still plainly at a loss. "Come!" said the girl. They went, leaving Hubert to stare. "Well--I've gone one better! That's Mrs. Danvers, I presume. So I've contrived to insult the mother and the daughter too. Cecil will shower blessings on my head. Who _can_ that Angel be?" As he was about to follow the ladies along the corridor, someone touched him on the arm. Turning, he saw that a stranger in a black frock coat stood at his side. "What were you saying to those ladies?" this person asked. "What the deuce is that to do with you? And who the devil are you?" "It has this to do with me, that I am the manager of this hotel, and that it is sufficiently obvious that your presence is objectionable to those ladies. Moreover, under existing circumstances, it is objectionable to me. It is a rule of this hotel that accounts are paid weekly. You have been here more than three weeks, and your first week's bill is yet unpaid. You have made sundry promises, but you have not kept them. I don't wish to have any unpleasantness with you, sir, but I regret that I am unable to accommodate you with a bed, in this hotel, to-night." Hubert felt a trifle wild. He was capable of that feeling now and then. As they were advancing in one direction, two gentlemen, a tall and a short one, were advancing towards them in the other. They were coming to close quarters. Hubert was conscious that the manager's outspoken observations could not be altogether inaudible to the approaching strangers. So he rode as high a horse as he conveniently could. "As for your bill, I will see it hanged first. As for your insolence, I will report it to your employers. As for myself, I shall only be too glad to go at once." One of the approaching strangers--the tall one--suddenly standing still, placed himself in front of Hubert in such a way as to bar his progress. With the finger tips of his right hand he tapped him lightly on the chest. "Not just at once, dear Buxton, not just at once. Not before you have said a few words to me." "And to me," said the short man, who stood beside his taller companion. Hubert looked from one to the other. "And pray who may you be?" he inquired. "You do not know me?" asked the big stranger. "Nor me?" echoed the little one. "But it does not matter. Perhaps you have a bad memory, my dear Buxton."