"The luncheon on my yacht. We are inviting Mr. Hare and his sister to meet you." "I am sorry," began Miss Carstairs, not looking at him, "but--I--I find that I shall n--" "Er--Mary?" said the candidate's voice through the window. She turned toward the door at once, as though welcoming a summons which so opportunely relieved her from embarrassing explanations: but Varney, who happened to have duties to her father to discharge, stood before her, not moving. "Just now in the theatre," he said pleasantly, "you cut me. That was for him. I understood. But is there any valid reason why you should not stay on speaking terms with--Laurence Varney?" To his surprise, a vivid red swept up her face from throat to hair and her eyes fluttered and fell. "Please," she said, "don't ask me to discuss this any more." Varney stood aside, bowing, to let her pass out. "I shall bring you proofs of my identity to-morrow, since that seems necessary," he said with a laugh. "You won't refuse to see me, if you care anything about being fair. But shall I tell you something, Miss Carstairs? In your heart _you believe me now_!" At the outer door, Varney all but collided with a man listlessly entering, and, glancing up, saw that it was the pale young editor, Coligny Smith. "I hope you enjoyed the meeting," flung out Varney in passing. "Why, greetings--greetings!" said Mr. Smith, a mocking smile on his thin lips. "I've just been out to buy your picture, Beany." With which singular rejoinder, he slipped by into the lobby. * * * * * J. Pinkney Hare lingered some time in the theatre after Miss Carstairs joined him, enveloped in a heartening whirl of new popularity. To the candidate it seemed that his star had changed with stunning swiftness. His advance to the door had been a Roman progress; and when he finally reached the lobby he was still the focus of a coterie of enthusiasts who would not be shaken off. Here a new halt was made: new people surrounded him; more hand-shakings and back-slappings took place; and everything seemed merry as a marriage-bell. But Peter, coming out of the hall a moment after Varney had left, saw hovering about this intimate circle an elderly man of a faded exterior and shabby clothes, who wore a black felt hat pulled down over wary-looking eyes. Even at that moment of splendid triumph, Peter was annoyed to recognize in him the man Higginson, of whose too friendly interest in the candidate's doings he had complained to Varney a few hours earlier. Whether he was, in truth, the man who had followed them on the street the night before, he was not ready to make affidavit. But undoubtedly there was something furtive in the man's appearance and manner; and Peter, watching him from the door, was highly irritated to see Hare present the fellow to Miss Carstairs, who smiled on him as upon one of her friend's good friends.