“I have it,” exclaimed his lordship now. “Deuced good plan--go to that Ruggles place for a jolly fat tea. No end of a spree, what, what!” It is said that on three occasions in turning his car and traversing the short block to the Grill the owner escaped disastrous collision with other vehicles only by the narrowest possible margin. He may have courted something of the sort. I dare say he was desperate. “Join us, of course!” said his lordship, as he assisted his companion to alight. Again I am told the host managed to illumine his refusal with a smile. He would take no tea--the doctor’s orders. The surprising pair entered at the height of my tea-hour and were served to an accompaniment of stares from the ladies present. To this they appeared oblivious, being intent upon their conference. His lordship was amiable to a degree. It now occurred to me that he had found the woman even more dangerous than he had at first supposed. He was being forced to play a deep game with her and was meeting guile with guile. He had, I suspected, found his poor brother far deeper in than any of us had thought. Doubtless he had written compromising letters that must be secured--letters she would hold at a price. And yet I had never before had excuse to believe his lordship possessed the diplomatic temperament. I reflected that I must always have misread him. He was deep, after all. Not until the two left did I learn that Belknap-Jackson awaited them with his car. He loitered about in adjacent doorways, quite like a hired fellow. He was passionately smoking more cigarettes than were good for him. I escorted my guests to the car. Belknap-Jackson took his seat with but one glance at me, yet it was eloquent of all the ignominy that had been heaped upon him. “Home, I think,” said the lady when they were well seated. She said it charmingly. “Home,” repeated his lordship. “Are you quite protected by the robe?” An incautious pedestrian at the next crossing narrowly escaped being run down. He shook a fist at the vanishing car and uttered a stream of oaths so vile that he would instantly have been taken up in any well-policed city. Half an hour later Belknap-Jackson called me. “He got out with that fiend! He’s staying on there. But, my God! can nothing be done?” “His lordship is playing a most desperate game,” I hastened to assure him. “He’s meeting difficulties. She must have her dupe’s letters in her possession. Blackmail, I dare say. Best leave his lordship free. He’s a deep character.” “He presumed far this afternoon--only the man’s position saved him with me!” His voice seemed choked with anger. Then, remotely, faint as distant cannonading, a rumble reached me. It was hoarse laughter of the Mixer, perhaps in another room. The electric telephone has been perfected in the States to a marvellous delicacy of response.