Barney Hope drove his tandem up and down the parade, to the glory of Eastbourne, but with small satisfaction to himself. He did not care for the admiration of those who were strangers to him. Although his state was princely, and had all the exclusiveness which attends princeliness, it was a condition of things not at all to the liking of so companionable a man as Barney. His magnificent plan, which gave employment to an amateur gardener, had apparently miscarried; for no word came from the girl at the school, and, whatever attractions the tandem had for other inhabitants of Eastbourne, it certainly seemed that Edna Sartwell did not share them, at least sufficiently to arrange for a drive with the young man and any of her companions who dared to break the rules of the school for the giddy whirl of his lofty vehicle. Barney cursed his luck and also his messenger. He was sure it was Marsten’s fault; some clumsiness on his part had undoubtedly spoiled everything. Now that Barney thought over Marsten’s demeanour when he returned, he saw--what he should have seen at the time, from the gruffness and shortness of the fellow’s answers--that he had made a mess of it somehow and was ashamed to confess his failure. Marsten had merely contented himself by saying to Barney that he had delivered the letter unseen, and that the girl had given him no message to take back. Barney could get no satisfying particulars from him regarding the incidents of the meeting. Had he talked with her? Of course he had. It was necessary to explain how he came to be there. What had she said? She said very little. Had she seemed angry? She did not seem any too well pleased. And thus Barney, with industry and persistence, endeavoured to draw the truth out of a reluctant man, who appeared only too eager to get away and commune with himself, and who evidently did not appreciate the fact that it was the duty of a messenger to communicate full particulars of his embassy to his chief.