“My dear little girl,” said the Premier, gently, while he patted her cheek, “I am afraid that you are of a very trusting disposition, though that has certainly been to the advantage of your poor old father. “No, no!” he went on. “Depend on it, he was there by arrangement. “Besides, how otherwise should he know who you were? And you say he suggested that he should drive you back to Downing Street? “Gad! it almost makes one admire the man to think of his cool cheek. To drive you back to Downing Street indeed!” “And yet, father, in spite of it all, I really believe the man's honest. You see, you cut me short. I have something else to tell you yet.” Lord Penshurst eyed Kathleen uneasily. “What is it now?” he asked, with a sad little laugh. “Why,” said Lady Kathleen, and for a moment she felt unaccountably nervous and shy, “he was here this afternoon.” “What!” roared the Premier; “he was here this afternoon? Why did you not tell me? I would have had the fellow flogged out of the place.” “Gently, father, gently,” urged Lady Kathleen, “aren't you speaking rather loud?” “I suppose I am,” said Lord Penshurst, bitterly. “But tell me about it.” In a very few words Lady Kathleen outlined her interview with Westerham in the Deer Park. “You know, father,” she concluded, “I almost believe he was speaking the truth when he said that he was quite different from the man we believed him to be.” “Rubbish, my dear,” snapped the Premier, “he is only a gentlemanly scoundrel—that is all. “I wonder how long we shall be able to keep Hilden in ignorance of what is really the matter,” he continued. “The dear chap has behaved splendidly—did everything I asked him without a murmur, even to the extent of burglary this afternoon. By the way, he has got your diamonds back. He has just 'phoned me from Downing Street.” “Oh, let them go! Let them go!” cried Lady Kathleen, with intense weariness. “Their presence seems only to make matters worse.” Suddenly she threw herself into her father's arms. “Oh, father, father!” she cried. “Let us do everything we can. Don't let us give up hope. We have still got a fortnight left in which to get that dreadful secret back. Don't let us give up hope. I would rather disguise myself and go out and search for it than have to endure what it means if we fail.” “Don't cry, my dear. Don't cry. Believe me, I am doing everything I possibly can without giving anything away. But already it seems to me—perhaps I only imagine things—that the servants and people suspect that something is wrong. “That is why we have got to be brave and look cheerful. I know it will be dreadful for you to have to look after the house party—and the people come to-morrow. Still, it cannot be helped. We have got to go through with it, but after the dance we will go back at once, and then I assure you that if it costs me my life I will make that Melun disgorge.” Kathleen smiled at her father through her tears.