"I want you to pay the hotel people for the rooms I reserved but have not occupied. Then, perhaps, they will hand you any mail that may have been sent after me. And please give them my address at Chester. Will you do all that?" "Certainly. There should be no difficulty." "Is Hereford looking very lively?" "It strikes me as peculiarly empty," he said with convincing candor. "Shall we have time to see all the show places to-morrow?" "We shall make time." "Well, good-bye! Bring my letters. I have not heard from my father since we left Bournemouth." "Ah, there I have the better of you. I heard of, if not from, my revered dad since reaching Hereford." "Unexpectedly?" "Oh, quite." "Nothing wrong, I hope?" "The old gentleman's temper seems to be a trifle out of gear; the present attack is not serious; he will survive it--for many years, I trust." "You must not be flippant where your father is concerned. I believe he is annoyed because you came away with me, and so failed to keep the appointment fixed for Saturday in London. Eh? What did you say?" "I said 'Well, I am surprised,' or words to that effect. As my name is George I cannot tell a lie, so I must admit regretfully that you have guessed right. Indeed, Miss Vanrenen, I may go so far as to suggest, by letter, that before my father condemns me he should first meet you. Of course, I shall warn him that you are irresistible." "Good-by again," said Cynthia severely. "You can tell me all about it after--oh, some time to-day, anyhow." The Green Dragon proved to be most undragonish. No manner of doubt was cast on Medenham's good faith; he pocketed half a dozen letters for Cynthia, and one, unstamped, bearing the crest of the Mitre, for Mrs. Devar. By the merest chance he caught sight of a note, addressed "Viscount Medenham," stuck in a rack among some telegrams. The handwriting was his father's. But how secure it without arousing quite reasonable suspicion? He tried the bold course. "I may as well take that, too," he said offhandedly. "Is Viscount Medenham also in your party?" inquired the bookkeeper. "Yes." Again no demur was raised, since the Earl's repeated demands for information as to Miss Vanrenen's whereabouts showed that some sort of link must exist between him and the missing tourists. Medenham sat in his car outside and read: MY DEAR GEORGE--If this reaches you, please oblige me by returning to town at once. Your aunt is making a devil of a fuss, and is most unpleasant. I say no more now, since I am not sure that you will be in Hereford before we meet. Yours ever, F. "I can see myself being very angry with Aunt Susan," he growled in the first flush of resentment against the unfairness of her attitude.