"Oh, yes; something of the kind occurred in the park at Prior’s Tarrant," he angrily replied. "But all this about the man being mistaken for me is officious nonsense—too trivial to warrant your pushing your way into this young lady’s presence at eleven o’clock at night. I shall complain to your superiors of this most impertinent intrusion." "What could it mean?" Sybil asked herself. The man’s nervous air—his attitude of listening—had disappeared. His sly face grew sleekly impudent under Beaumanoir’s rebuke and it was quite jauntily that he answered: "Then I’ll bid your Grace good-night. Very possibly you’ll reconsider the advisability of raising the question at Scotland Yard." The clerical coat-tails went flapping down the room, the Duke following them to the door, where he handed their owner over to Prince, who was hovering in the hall. Having given a sharp order to "show the gentleman out," Beaumanoir returned to Sybil, humbly apologetic, but with signs of haste in his manner. "My dear cousin, I am more than annoyed at Prince’s laxity in admitting that fellow," he said, taking her hand. "It is fortunate that I chanced to look in in the hope of finding you up, and so was able to rid you of him. I came to leave a message for Alec in case he calls presently." "But Alec is the pink of propriety," exclaimed Sibyl, laughing in spite of herself. "He doesn’t call on an unprotected damsel, even if he is engaged to her, at eleven o’clock at night." "Nevertheless, I believe that he will call here very shortly; and I should like him to be told that I am all right, and, in fact, that I am going out of town for a few days to the sea-side. I will communicate with him when I want him to enter on his secretarial duties. That is all, I think. I must really be off now." But Sybil would not at once take his proffered hand. She remembered that he had mentioned that he was to spend the night at Alec’s chambers, and this sudden derangement of plans, coupled with the lurking suggestion in his message, was, to say the least of it, mysterious. Looking into the tired eyes, she found again that expression of sleepless worry that had puzzled her. Why should it be necessary for this young man, newly come to great wealth and station, to notify his friend so feverishly that he was "all right," and in the same breath announce his retreat from London to some vague destination—not to his own country-seat? "As you expect Alec here, wouldn’t it be better to wait for him?" she urged; adding naïvely, "I could even offer you a bed, if you would condescend to make yourself at home in your own house."