"Then I hope I may give myself the pleasure of calling. Have you had lunch?" "Not yet." "That is right. I am sure you can be spared for the next quarter of an hour." Mona introduced him to Miss Bonthron as a "family friend," and then took his arm. Now that they had met, no ridiculous notions of propriety should prevent their seeing something of each other. "Do you know Lady Kirkhope?" he asked, as he piloted the way through the hall. "No. I had better tell you at once that I am not in the least likely to know her; I----" "Lady Kirkhope," said the Sahib suddenly, stopping in front of a vivacious dame, "I am sure you will be glad to make the acquaintance of Miss Maclean. She is the daughter of Gordon Maclean, of whom we were talking last evening." "Then I am proud to shake hands with her," said the lady graciously. "There are very few men, Miss Maclean, whom I admire as I did your father." A few friendly words followed, and then the Sahib and Mona continued their way. "Oh, Mr Dickinson," said Mona, when they had reached the large refreshment-room, and were seated in a deserted corner, "what _have_ you done?" "Well, what have I done!" said the Sahib, in good-humoured mystification. "I ought to have asked your permission before introducing you in a place like this; but Lady Kirkhope is not at all particular in that sort of way, and we met her so _à propos_. I am sure you would not mind if you knew how she spoke of your father." "It is not that." Mona drew a long breath. "It is not your fault in the least, but I don't think any human being was ever placed in such a false position as I am." She hesitated. When she had first seen the glad friendly smile on the Sahib's face, she had fancied it would be so easy to tell him the whole story; but now the situation seemed so absurd, so grotesque, so impossible, that she could not find words. "Mr Dickinson," she said at last, "Lady Munro really is my aunt." "She appears to be under a strong impression to that effect." "And Gordon Maclean was my father." "So I have heard." "And my mother, Miss Lennox, was a lady whom any one would have been glad to know." "That I can answer for!" "But I never told you all that? I never traded on my relatives or even spoke of them?" "I scarcely need to answer that question. Your exordium is striking, but don't keep me in suspense longer than you can help." Mona did not join in his smile. "All that," she said with a great effort, "is true; and it is equally true that at the present moment I am living with a cousin who keeps a small shop at Borrowness. I have been asked to sell at this bazaar simply because--_c'est mon mètier, à moi_. I ought to do it well. Now you know why I did not wish to be introduced to Lady Kirkhope." It was a full minute before the Sahib spoke, and then his answer was characteristic. "What on earth," he asked, "do you do it for?" Mona was herself again in a moment.