"I daresay about books and things I am, but I mean I haven't been wrapped in cotton-wool, and taken care of all my life, like Jan and Fay ... I know about things. Oh dear, oh dear, will you forbid Jan ever to speak to me again?" "Jan!" Anthony repeated. "Jan! Why, she's the person of all others we want. We'll do nothing till she's here. Let's get her." And he pushed back his chair and rushed to the bell. Meg rushed after him: "You'll let her see me? You'll let her talk to me? Oh, are you sure?" The little hands clutched his arm, her ravaged, wistful face was raised imploringly to his. Anthony stooped and kissed the little face. "It's just people like Jan who are put into the world to straighten things out for the rest of us. We've wasted three-quarters of an hour already. Now we'll get her." "Is she on the telephone?" asked the practical Meg. "Not far off?" * * * * * Jan was quite used to being summoned to her father in a tremendous hurry. She was back in St. George's Square before he started for the dinner. Meg was lying down in one of the dismantled bedrooms, and when Jan arrived she went straight to her father in his dressing-room. She found him on his knees, pursuing a refractory collar-stud under the wash-stand. "It's well you've come," he said as he got up. "I can't fasten my collar or my tie. I've had a devil of a time. My fingers are all thumbs and I'm most detestably sticky." He told Jan about Meg. She fastened his collar and arranged his tie in the neatest of bows. Then she kissed him on both cheeks and told him not to worry. "How can one refrain from worrying when the works of the devil and the selfishness of man are made manifest as they have been to-day? But for the infinite mercy of God, where would that poor silly child have been?" "It's just because the infinite mercy of God is so much stronger than the works of the devil or the selfishness of man, that you needn't worry," said Jan. Anthony put his hands on Jan's shoulders and held her away from him. "Do you know," he said, "I shall always like Hannah better after this. In spite of her moustache and her grimness, that child was sure Hannah would take her in, whether any of us were here or not. Now, how did she know?" "Because," said Jan, "things are revealed to babes like Meg that are hidden from men of the world like you. Hannah is all right--you don't appreciate Hannah, and you are rather jealous of her moustache." Anthony leant forward and kissed his tall young daughter: "You are a great comfort, Jan," he said. "How do you do it?" Jan nodded at him. "It will all straighten out--don't you worry," she said. All the same, there was plenty of worry for everybody. The man, after his fashion, was very much in love with Meg. He was horribly alarmed by her sudden and mysterious disappearance. No one had seen her go, no one had noticed her.