"I do," he said sturdily. "I warned her that I would do everything in my power to find her. I am only sorry that I have been so long in doing it." "I am afraid she would not share your regret. In any case, I cannot take the responsibility of helping you any further." "You refuse to tell me where to find her?" "I am sorry to appear discourteous, Mr Maplestone, but I have no choice." He looked at me, a cool, casual glance, and impatiently frowned. There was no flicker of recognition in his look. To him I was obviously a mere figure-head, an obstinate, elderly woman who stood as an obstacle in his path. He hesitated for a moment, and then said emphatically:-- "My business is imperative. It is absolutely necessary to see Miss Wastneys." "I think she must decide this point." "Madam!"--he glared at me reproachfully--"you are probably not aware that I have asked Miss Wastneys to be my wife?" "I was not aware, Mr Maplestone, that Miss Wastneys had accepted that offer." "She has not. That is just the point. If she had, I should not need help. But she is going to! That is why I am so anxious to find her--to prevent further waste of time." Braced against my cushions, I gasped in mingled exasperation and dismay. That tone of certainty impressed me against my will. It required an effort to preserve an unruffled appearance. "I cannot give you any help, Mr Maplestone. To the best of my belief, you are wrong in your expectations." "Evelyn--Miss Wastneys is your niece, I believe?" I bowed, mentally quoting the orphan's qualification:-- "Sort of!" "May I ask if she has confided in you--told you the history of our acquaintance?" For one moment I hesitated, then:-- "I think I may say that I know practically all that there is to tell." He leant forward suddenly, rested an arm on the table, and fixed me with eager eyes. "Miss Harding, I want a friend! I want an ally. I came here to-day, hoping to find one in you. Will you be on my side?" I drew back; but, before I had time to protest, he hurled another crisp, sharp question at my head:-- "Do you love your niece?" The question appealed to me. I answered promptly, as it were mentally licking my lips:-- "I _do_! I may say I am much attached to Evelyn. She has faults (judicially), but she is a pleasant, well-meaning girl. She has been (unctuously) very kind to me." "She is kind to everyone," he said shortly, "except myself! Of course she has faults! Plenty of them. You could not know her without seeing that." I glared, outraged. Oh, indeed! If my faults are so many and so obvious, why on earth does he--? "You are very keen-sighted for a lover, Mr Maplestone," I said coldly. "If I were Evelyn, I should prefer the idealism which is usual under the circumstances. But perhaps you do not pose as an ordinary lover."