The girl could have sung for joy over the success of her adventure. In the end she would cheat nobody; she would make a decent sum for herself, and meanwhile she was drinking the intoxicating nectar of excitement. She was so happy that when she had finished her business, sold all her shares, and the two months for which the _Titania_ was hired were drawing to an end she longed to stay on. She was her own mistress, and could pay her way now--at least, for awhile, until she had another stroke of luck, which her confidence in herself enabled her to count upon as certain. She and Lady John were having a "good time," everybody liked them, and she did not see why this good time should not go on indefinitely. Besides, she had promised to sell the yacht for its owner. The two ladies of the _Titania_ had invitations for a month ahead, and one evening were dressed and waiting for the arrival of an English bishop, a Roman prince, two American trust magnates, and a French duchess and her daughter, when the name of Mr. Grierson Mordaunt was announced. Joan’s blood rushed to her head, but she stood up smiling. "Leave us for a minute, dear," she breathed to Lady John, who slipped off to her cabin unsuspectingly. The girl found herself facing a grizzled, smooth-shaven man with a prominent chin, a large nose, and deep eyes of iron grey which matched his hair and faded skin. "So you are the young woman who has been trading on a supposed relationship to me?" remarked Grierson Mordaunt, looking her up and down from head to foot. "We are related--through Adam," replied Joan, whose lips were dry. "As for ’trading’ on the relationship, I’m proud of it, and I don’t see why you should be ashamed of me. I’ve done nothing to disgrace you." "What is your game, that you should have selected my particular branch of the Adam family?" "Because I have one of your family secrets. If you are going to disown me, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t give it away." "What are you talking about?" "Clerios. You aren’t ready for the secret of that deal to come out yet, are you? I saw in the paper the other day that you had denied any intention of taking the Clerio line into your combine. It was the same paper that said you had just returned to New York from Florida." "You are an adventuress, my young friend." "Every seeker of fortune is an adventurer or an adventuress. The crime is, failure. I’m not a criminal, because I am succeeding, and my success has enabled me to meet my obligations. If you don’t think that I was justified in claiming relationship with you through so remote an ancestor in common as Adam, you can make the rest of my stay here very uncomfortable, I admit; and if you have no fellow-feeling for a beginner, I suppose you will do it." "How long do you intend your stay to be?" inquired Mordaunt grimly, but with a twinkle in his eye. "How long do you want it kept dark about Clerios?" "A fortnight."