She remained only long enough, however, to change into one of the pretty dresses left from last spring’s wardrobe. Looking as if her home should be Park Lane instead of Bloomsbury, she went to the office of the illustrated weekly in which she had been interested that morning. When she inquired the address of _Titania’s_ owner, she was told that all business connected with the yacht would be done at the advertising bureau of the paper. This was a blow, for the proposal that Joan had to make was not, perhaps, of a kind suited to the taste of a mere commonplace agent. She thought for a moment, and then said, with a slight accent which she had learned through mimicking a girl at school: "Well, I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid we can’t do business, then. I’m an American girl; my name is Mordaunt. Grierson Mordaunt is my uncle. I guess you’ve heard of him. I want to buy a yacht, in a hurry--my people generally are in a hurry--and I thought this one might do. But if I can’t see the owner myself, it’s no use. _Good_ morning." [Illustration: "Looking as if her home should be Park Lane instead of Bloomsbury, she went to the office."] Before she had got half-way to the door the dapper manager of the advertising bureau stopped her. Possibly an exception might be made in her favour; he would write to his client. "Can you send the letter by district messenger?" shrewdly asked the newly-fledged Miss Mordaunt. The manager admitted that this could be done. To what hotel should he transmit the answer? "I’m staying with friends, and I don’t want them to know about this till it’s settled," said Joan. "I tell you what I’ll do: I’ll wait here." CHAPTER IV--The Steam Yacht _Titania_ She did wait, for three-quarters of an hour; and at the end of that time the manager received a reply to his letter. In consequence, he told Joan that Lady John Bevan would see her at Kensington Park Mansions. As soon as the girl heard the name of Lady John Bevan, she knew why the yacht was for sale, and was hopeful that the eccentric proposition she meant to make might be received with favour. Lord John Bevan was in prison, for the crime of forgery, committed after losing a fortune at Monte Carlo. Joan took another cab to Kensington Park Mansions--a mean shelter for a woman whose environment had once been brilliant. But Lady John, a tall and peculiarly elegant woman, shone out like a jewel in an unworthy setting. The two women looked at each other with admiration, and there was eagerness in the elder’s voice as she said: "You want to buy the _Titania_, Miss Mordaunt?"