"You must let me bring my nephew to meet Miss Glyn," said Uncle Van graciously to his hostess. "She is so interested in the family history that she and Charlie would get on like wildfire. He's mad about it." "In fact," sniggered Victor (Miss Glyn always detested that man), "so interested that, as you hear, he went to meet Agatha Merceron every evening for a fortnight!" "You'll be delighted to meet him, won't you, Agatha? We must arrange a day," said Mrs. Blunt. "Calder knows him," added Victor. "He's an idle young dog," said Uncle Van, "but a nice fellow. A little flighty and fanciful, as boys will be, but no harm in him. You mustn't attach too much importance to our chaff about his meetings at the Pool, Miss Glyn; we don't mean any harm." Agatha tried to smile, but the attempt was not a brilliant success. She stammered that she would be delighted to meet Mr. Charles Merceron, swearing in her heart that she would sooner start for Tierra del Fuego. But her confession to Mrs. Blunt would save her, if only these odious men would go. They had had their coffee, and their liqueurs, and their cigarettes. What more, in Heaven's name, could even a man want to propitiate the god of his idolatry? Apparently the guests themselves became aware that they were trespassing, for Uncle Van, turning to his hostess with his blandest smile, remarked, "I hope we're not staying too long. The fact is, my dear Mrs. Blunt, you're always so kind that we took the liberty of telling Calder Wentworth to call for us here. He ought to have come by now." Mrs. Blunt declared that she would be offended if they thought of going before Calder came. Agatha rose in despair: the confession must be put off. She held out her hand to her hostess. At this moment the door-bell rang. "That's him," said Victor. "Sit down again for a minute, dear," urged Mrs. Blunt. There was renewed hope for the confession. Agatha sat down. But hardly had she done so before the strangest presentiment came over her. She heard the door below open and shut, and it was borne in upon her mind that two men had entered. How she guessed it, she could not tell, but, as she sat there, she had no doubt at all that Charlie Merceron had come with Calder Went worth. Escape was impossible, but she walked across to the window and stood there, with her back to the door. "Mr. Wentworth!" she heard, and then, cutting the servant short, came Calder's voice. "I took the liberty---" he began: and she did not know how he went on, for her head was swimming. "Agatha! Agatha, dear!" called Mrs. Blunt. Perforce she turned, passing her hand quickly across her brow. Yes! It was so. There he stood by Calder's side, and Calder was saying, "My dear Agatha, this is Charlie Merceron."