So they met. As in the mild and innocent poem of Victorian days, "'twas in a crowd." Little Miss Grouch had provided the crowd, and the Tyro simply added one to it. He was fain if not wholly content to stay in the background and bide his chance. Now Little Miss Grouch, ignorant of the fact that her high-priced counsel had betrayed her cause, marveled and was disturbed when the Tyro approached, greeted her, and straightway dropped into the fringe of Society as constituted by herself for the occasion. Was he deliberately, in the face of his own belief that imprisonment would be the penalty of any communication between her and himself, willing to risk her liberty? If so, he was not the man she had taken him for. Little Miss Grouch's ideal was rocking a bit on his pedestal. Patience was not one of the young lady's virtues. On the other hand, the compensating quality of directness was. "Do It Now" was her prevailing motto. She wanted to know what her slave meant by his abrupt change of attitude, and she wanted to know at once. But her methods, though prompt, were not wholly lacking in finesse. Out of her surrounding court she appointed Judge Enderby and Lord Guenn escorts for the morning promenade, and picked up Dr. Alderson on the way. Be it duly set down to the credit of the Joyous Vision's solider qualities, that old men found her as interesting a companion, though in a different way, as did young men. By skillful management, she led the conversation to the house on the Battery, with the anticipated result that Judge Enderby (all innocent, wily old fox though he was, that he was playing her game) suggested the inclusion of the other claimant in the conference. The Tyro was summoned and came. "The charge against you," explained the judge, "is contumaciousness in that you still insist on coveting a property which is claimed by royalty, under the divine right of queens." "I'd be glad to surrender it," said the Tyro meekly, "but there seems to be a species of family obligation about it." "Obligation or no obligation, you know you can't have it," declared the lady. "I rather expect to, though." "When papa says he'll get a thing, he always gets it," she informed him with lofty confidence, "and he has promised me that house." "Then I'm afraid that this is the time his promise goes unfulfilled," said Judge Enderby. She turned to him with incredulously raised brows. "Alderson knows the old records; he's seen the option--it's a queer old document, by the way, but sound legally--and can swear to it." "The only loose joint is the exact plan of the original property," observed the archæologist. "And that is in the picture at Guenn Oaks," contributed Lord Guenn. "Why are you all against me?" cried Little Miss Grouch in grieved amazement.