I completely forgot my charge; or when I thought of her at all it was only to recall that she was in safe hands, if not arms, and to pursue my own amusement. Then abruptly and most annoyingly the party was over. I can't think why they wanted to end it. I, for one, was not in the least ready to go home. But once out in the open air I had a dim realization that all was not quite well with me. I became possessed of a sudden desire to be alone, and a distaste for allowing either Peaches or her father to see me until I was in some way different from the way I was at the moment. And actuated by this motive I managed with uncanny cunning to elude my party and find our automobile ahead of the other members of the family. Richard, the chauffeur, was sitting in it alone, and I begged him for assistance. "Dicky," I said, "I want to go right back to the hotel an' get my handkerfish. You take me, and come back for the resh." "Lit to the eyelids!" exclaimed Richard. I haven't the faintest idea of what the boy meant, but he was most helpful, I will say that. He got me into the car, and somehow we reached the hotel. The wind in my face had revived me and I managed by the exercise of great dignity to give a sufficient appearance of self-reliance. Richard, the chauffeur, left me with reluctance, but it was necessary for him to hurry back at once for Mr. Pegg. I experienced no difficulty in reaching my floor of the hotel, but once there I realized to my annoyance that I had forgotten my key. I somehow disliked the idea of calling upon the office for assistance, and determined to chance the door being unlocked. It was possible at any rate. The corridor was a long one--altogether too long and with too many doors in it. I remember thinking Mr. Pegg ought to speak to the management about it in the morning. But after some hesitation I selected my own door, opened it without difficulty and entered, to face the two rascals of men whom I had tripped up in the London theater. "What are you doing in my room?" I demanded. "Madam, this is not your room," said the one with the mustache. And as he spoke I dimly realized that though it was an hour when most persons are in bed, both were dressed--even to hats and gloves. And they seemed profoundly disturbed at my appearance. "It is my room!" I insisted, sitting down by the door, which remained open. "It's my room, and I'd like you to explain what you are doing in it." "Madam," said the other imploringly, "you are mistaken. I assure you this room is ours. I can prove it----" "I don't want to dispute you," I replied with dignity, "but leave my room at once!" I don't know how long we sat there arguing but it seemed like months. And then all at once I heard Peaches' voice behind me. "Good heavens! What are you doing there, Free Talbot?" she said, striding in and seizing me by the shoulder. "I'm trying to put these brigands out of my room!" I said. "Don't interfere, my dear!"