“Lord save us, Miss Daventry, I’ve been asleep,” he said, stifling a yawn. “I knew I oughtn’t to have had a third glass of port. Deuced bad for the liver, but very pleasant for all that, isn’t it, Mr.—Mr. Perrison?” He smiled engagingly at the scowling Perrison, and adjusted his eyeglass. “You sleep very silently, Mr. Longworth,” snarled that worthy. “Yes—used to win prizes for it at an infant school. Most valuable asset in class. If one snores it disconcerts the lecturer.” Perrison swung round on his heel. “I would like an answer to my suggestion by to-morrow, Miss Daventry,” he said, softly. “Perhaps I might have the pleasure of a walk where people don’t sleep off the effects of dinner.” With a slight bow he left the conservatory, and the girl sat down weakly. “Pleasant type of bird, isn’t he?” drawled Longworth, watching Perrison’s retreating back. “He’s a brute—an utter brute,” whispered the girl, shakily. “I thought the interview would leave you with that impression,” agreed the man. She sat up quickly. “Did you hear what was said?” “Every word. That’s why I was there.” He smiled at her calmly. “Then why didn’t you come out sooner?” she cried, indignantly. “I wanted to hear what he had to say, and at the same time I didn’t want you to biff him on the jaw—which from your attitude I gathered you were on the point of doing.” “Why not? I’d have given anything to have smacked his face.” “I know. I’d have given anything to have seen you do it. But—not yet. In fact, to-morrow you’ve got to go for a walk with him.” “I flatly refuse!” cried Sybil Daventry. “More than that,” continued Longworth, calmly, “you’ve got to keep him on the hook. Play with him; let him think he’s got a chance.” “But why?” she demanded. “I loathe him.” “Because it is absolutely essential that he should remain here until the day after to-morrow at the earliest.” “I don’t understand.” She looked at him with a puzzled frown. “You will in good time.” It seemed to her his voice was just a little weary. “Just now it is better that you shouldn’t. Do you trust me enough to do that, Sybil?” “I trust you absolutely,” and she saw him wince. “Then keep him here till I come back.” “Are you going away, Archie?” Impulsively she laid her hand on his arm. “To-morrow, first thing. I shall come back as soon as possible.” For a moment or two they stood in silence, then, with a gesture strangely foreign to one so typically British, he raised her hand to his lips. And the next instant she was alone.