“Yes; but he doesn’t say whether it’s important to me or to himself. Oh, yes, I suppose I must see him.” Although Priscilla did not think that he had reached that period of honeymoon delight when a man is ready to welcome the arrival of a friend, or even an enemy, she was still pleased that a new element was entering into their communion. She had a strange longing to be presented to some of his friends, and to hear him say: “I want to introduce you to my wife, old chap. She’s dying to know you.” And she was gratified shortly after lunch that day; for those were the very words he employed when making her known to Mr. Franklin Forrester. She saw by the expression of the visitor’s face when he looked at her that he was both surprised and pleased. “He is appraising my value as a possible asset to a political party,” she said to herself; and that was precisely what Mr. Forrester was doing. He was a well-made and rather good-looking man, with a Vandyck beard, inclined to fairness. He had a moderate supply of hair on the front of his head and he made praiseworthy, and on the whole successful, attempts to conceal the fact that it was becoming rather thin on the top. His eyes would possibly have been accounted good had he ever given anyone a chance to see them long enough to form an opinion upon them. As it was, most people saw them only long enough to see that they were restless. Still, Jack’s wife had managed to interpret the general expression of his face pretty accurately. “And now maybe you’ll tell me how you got my address here,” said Jack, when they had said a few words about Sandycliffe and how it was being developed. Mr. Forrester knew who was most interested in its development, and how the hotel shares had been worked off. “I sent a wire to Elliot--you know Compton Elliot--at Framsby to find out if you were at home. I believe that it was from Mrs. Wingfield, your mother, that he got your present location. Useful man, Compton Elliot,” said Mr. Forrester. “Yes, infernally useful,” assented Jack. “My dear Wingfield, you may be sure that I would not have thrust myself upon you at this--this--this interesting time if I could have avoided it,” cried the visitor. “At the same time, I must honestly confess that I’m rather glad to find you so circumstanced----” “Gloriana! What a word--‘circumstanced’!” murmured Jack. “Well, I mean that I’m pleased to be able to make an appeal to you in the presence of some one who will, I am sure, advise you to listen to me, and not condemn me without thinking the whole matter over.” “Isn’t he artful?” said Jack. “He has just killed a political opponent and he is about to appeal to my better nature not to give him away. He knows that women are invariably on the side of the criminal. Go on, F. F.”