“Oh, yes. The object was this. It seems that there is in the Foreign Office some crusty old curmudgeon who delights in baffling Mr. Hardwick. This official--I forget his name; in fact, I don’t think Mr. Hardwick told me who he was--seems to forget the _Daily Bugle_ when important items of news are to be given out, and Mr. Hardwick says that he favours one of the rival papers, and the _Bugle_ has been unable, so far, to receive anything like fair treatment from him; so Mr. Hardwick wanted to take the document to him, and thus convince him there was danger in making an enemy of the _Daily Bugle_. As I understood his project, which didn’t commend itself very much to me, Hardwick had no intention of making a bargain, but simply proposed to hand over the document, and ask the Foreign Office man to give the _Bugle_ its fair share in what was going.” “Do you mean to say that the official in question is the man to whom I am to give this letter?” “Yes.” “Oh, my prophetic soul, my uncle! Why, that is Sir James Cardiff, the elder brother of my mother; he is a dear old chap, but I can well understand an outsider thinking him gruff and uncivil. If the editor really means what he says, then there will be no difficulty and no disappointment. If all that is needed is the winning over of old Jimmy to be civil to Hardwick, I can guarantee that. I am the especial _protégé_ of my uncle. Everything I know I have learned from him. He cannot understand why the British Government does not appoint me immediately Ambassador to France; Jimmy would do it to-morrow if he had the power. It was through him that I heard of this letter, and I believe his influence had a good deal to do with my getting the commission of special messenger. It was the chagrin that my uncle Jimmy would have felt, had I failed, that put the final drop of bitterness in my cup of sorrow when I came to my senses after my encounter with the Russian police. That would have been a stunning blow to Sir James Cardiff. We shall reach Charing Cross about 7.30 to-night, and Sir James will be there with his brougham to take charge of me when I arrive. Now, what do you say to our settling all this under the canopy of Charing Cross Station? If you telegraph Mr. Hardwick to meet us there, I will introduce him to Sir James, and he will never have any more trouble in that quarter.” “I think,” said the girl, looking down at the tablecloth, “that I’d rather not have Mr. Hardwick meet us.” “Of course not,” answered the young man quickly. “What was I thinking about? It will be a family gathering, and we don’t want any outsiders about, do we?” Jennie laughed, but made no reply. CHAPTER XXI. JENNIE KEEPS STEP WITH THE WEDDING MARCH.