The Trinity clock had just struck two, when a smart carriage and pair hired from the Bull stopped at the gate, and the Babe’s gyp, who had been waiting at the porter’s lodge, wheeled the Bath chair up to it. Out of it stepped first the Babe, next a short stout old lady dressed in black, and last a very tall young woman elegantly dressed. She was quite as tall as the Babe, and seemed the type of the English woman of the upper class, who plays lawn-tennis and rides bicycles. The gyp bowed low as he helped the old lady into the chair, and the Babe, hat in hand until the old lady told him to put it on, and the tall girl walked one on each side of it. The porter who was just going into the lodge, stopped dead as they passed, and also took off his hat, and the Bath chair passed down an inclined plane of boards which had been arranged over the steps into the court. Mr. Stewart, standing with Medingway at his bow window, saw them enter, and in a voice trembling with suppressed excitement said to his companion: “Here they are,” and though benedictions were not frequent on his lips, added: “God bless her.” He pressed Medingway to stop for lunch, and the two sat down together. “Was it in the papers this morning?” asked the latter. Mr. Stewart took the _Morning Post_ from the sofa. “It is only announced that the Court will leave Windsor to-day. They are expected at Balmoral on Wednesday, not Tuesday, you see. It does not give their movements for to-day.” Mr. Medingway was looking out of the window. “They have got to the staircase,” he said. “And she is getting out. Are we--is anyone going in afterwards?” “I believe not. It is to be absolutely quiet, and strictly incognito. They leave again by the 4.35.” “An interesting, a unique occasion,” said Medingway. “Yes; the Babe takes it all so easily. I wish I had been able to have him to lunch last week.” Mr. Medingway smiled, and helped himself to a slice of galantine. “They wouldn’t perhaps take a cup of tea before going--” “Certainly not,” said Mr. Stewart, who, if he was not playing the _beau rôle_ to-day, at any rate had been in the confidence of him who was. “The Babe was most urgent that I should not let it get about. Indeed, I have committed a breach of confidence in telling you. Of course I know it will go no further.” Meantime, the Babe having successfully conveyed his party across the court, and having taken the precaution of sporting his door, was having lunch. Opposite to him sat Jack Marsden, dressed in a black silk gown; on his right Reggie, attired in the height of fashion. He wore a blue dress with very full sleeves, and a large picture hat. He was taking a long draught of Lager beer. “Stewart and Medingway both saw,” he said, “and they are both at Stewart’s window now.”