"They are only too few, Mr. Headland," he said irritably. "Lady Margaret has just returned from a convent school in Paris. In fact, she came back just three weeks ago to-morrow. I met her more than a year ago when my mother and I--we are neighbours, by the way--were staying in Paris, and we became engaged. I had no idea that Peggy, Lady Margaret I mean, was to return to England till I heard through my servant. For Miss Cheyne dislikes me intensely and----" "Any reason for that, sir?" queried Mr. Headland with an air of bland politeness. "Well, to a certain extent, yes," was the grudging reply. "My father, I believe, was engaged to her at one time, but finding her temper intolerable, made his escape, and Miss Cheyne has hated my mother and myself in consequence. When she heard from Peggy that we had met, and fallen in love with each other, she was furious, and kept my dear girl almost imprisoned in that confounded convent. It was impossible for us to hold any communication directly, but when I heard she was expected back, like an ass I rushed over to Cheyne Court, to beg permission to meet her at the station. This was refused. Indeed, the old wretch went so far as to threaten me with a revolver, and I believe she would have attacked me, too, had I not snatched it from her, and beat a retreat." "And what time did you say that was?" put in Cleek with ill-concealed interest. An innocent remark enough, but one Sir Edgar seemed to resent strongly. "What the devil's that to do with you, I should like to know?" he demanded fiercely. "How dare you try to badger me with foolish questions! As a matter of fact, it was quite early in the day. Somewhere near lunch time, if you must know." A little smile creased Cleek's face, but his tones were quite smooth as he said, "I see, sir; and you didn't go back?" Again Sir Edgar flushed and frowned. "No, I did not, sir," he retorted savagely. "I was at a dinner-party. And I haven't come here to be cross-examined by a common policeman. I want to know how I can get my fiancée out of that house." Here Mr. Narkom flung himself into the breach. "Has she come of age?" he asked quickly, and thereby voiced the thought that was passing in Cleek's own mind. "Legally, no, and that is just the difficulty. By Lord Cheyne's will she takes possession of her property on her eighteenth birthday though she can only marry with the consent of Miss Cheyne. Now yesterday was her birthday, and by a sheer piece of good luck here in London I came across Lady Margaret herself and without Miss Cheyne. When she told me that they had come up to fetch all the family jewels and to remove them to Cheyne Court, you can imagine my feelings."