Wolfenden glanced towards the distant table where his father's secretary was already finishing his modest meal. "Poor old Blatherwick!" he remarked; "I know he's awfully relieved. He's too nervous for this sort of thing; I believe he would have lost his head altogether if his mysterious correspondent had turned up." "I suppose," Harcutt said, "that we may take it for granted that he is not in the room." "Every soul here," Wolfenden answered, "is known to me either personally or by sight. The man with the dark moustache sitting by himself is a London solicitor who built himself a bungalow here four years ago, and comes down every other week for golf. The two men in the corner are land speculators from Norwich; and their neighbour is Captain Stoneham, who rides over from the barracks twice a week, also for golf." "It is rather a sell for us," Harcutt remarked. "On the whole I am not sorry that I have to go back to town to-night. Great Scott! what a pretty girl!" "Lean back, you idiot!" Wolfenden exclaimed softly; "don't move if you can help it!" Harcutt grasped the situation and obeyed at once. The portion of the dining-room in which they were sitting was little more than a recess, divided off from the main apartment by heavy curtains and seldom used except in the summer when visitors were plentiful. Mr. Blatherwick's table was really within a few feet of theirs, but they themselves were hidden from it by a corner of the folding doors. They had chosen the position with care and apparently with success. The girl who had entered the room stood for a moment looking round as though about to select a table. Harcutt's exclamation was not without justification, for she was certainly pretty. She was neatly dressed in a grey walking suit, and a velvet Tam-o-shanter hat with a smart feather. Suddenly she saw Mr. Blatherwick and advanced towards him with outstretched hand and a charming smile. "Why, my dear Mr. Blatherwick, what on earth are you doing here?" she exclaimed. "Have you left Lord Deringham?" Mr. Blatherwick rose to his feet confused, and blushing to his spectacles; he greeted the young lady, however, with evident pleasure. "No; that is, not yet," he answered; "I am leaving this week. I did not know--I had no idea that you were in the vicinity! I am very pleased to see you." She looked at the empty place at his table. "I was going to have some luncheon," she said; "I have walked so much further than I intended and I am ravenously hungry. May I sit at your table?" "With much pleasure," Mr. Blatherwick assented. "I was expecting a--a--friend, but he is evidently not coming." "I will take his place then, if I may," she said, seating herself in the chair which the waiter was holding for her, and raising her veil. "Will you order something for me? I am too hungry to mind what it is." Mr. Blatherwick gave a hesitating order, and the waiter departed. Miss Merton drew off her gloves and was perfectly at her ease.