"Because we dined there, my dear. Young Rabbich gave the feast; it was all arranged beforehand. We meant to spoil that meeting, but we began too soon, and they were too strong for us, and . . . he's an ass, and shouted out all sorts of things he shouldn't--we deserved what we got." "And then?" "I'm not very clear what happened then, except that there was the most tremendous shindy in the street, and fur was flying like anything, and the next I know was two bobbies had got me, and your friend Gallup squared them and took me home and put me to bed . . . and here I am." "Mr Gallup," Mary repeated incredulously; "you've been to bed in his house?" "You've got it, my sister; lay on his bed just as I am . . . and he woke me at six and sent me home on his bicycle." "But why--why should he have interfered? I should have thought he'd have been _glad_ for you to be taken up, interrupting his meeting and being on the other side . . . and everything." "Well, anyway, that's what he did, and whatever his motives may have been it was jolly decent of him . . . and . . ." here Grantly lowered his voice to the faintest mumble, "he never said a word of reproof or exhortation . . . I tell you he behaved like a gentleman. What's to be done?" "Nothing," said Mary decidedly. "You've played the fool, and by the mercy of Providence you've got off uncommonly cheap. It would worry mother horribly if she knew, and as for father . . . well you know what _he_ thinks of people who can't carry their liquor like gentlemen, and grandfather too . . . and . . . oh, Grantly--father's not going South till the very end of January; he decided to-night that as the weather was so mild he'd wait till then. So it would _never_ do if it was to come out, your life would be unbearable, all of our lives; he'd say it was the Grantly strain coming out--you know how he blames every bit of bad in us on mother's people." "I know," groaned Grantly, "I know." "Well, anyway," Mary said in quite a different tone, "there's one thing we've got to remember, and that is we must be uncommonly civil to that young man if we happen to meet him--he's put us under an obligation." "I know . . . I know, that's what I feel, and I shall never have an easy minute till I've done something for him . . . and I don't see anything I can do with the pater like he is and all. Isn't it a _beastly_ state of things?" In the darkness Mary leant forward and stroked the tousled head bent down over Parker. "Poor old boy," she said softly, "poor old boy," and Parker licked something that tasted salt off the end of his nose. When Grantly left his sister's room Parker went with him. * * * * * * Eloquent's housekeeper found the missing key under his bed, and he sent it out to the Manor House that morning, addressed to Grantly, in a sealed envelope by special messenger.