“My dear Virginia, matters are likely to be a little strained shortly in a certain Central European nation. It is important, for reasons which are immaterial, that this—Mr.—er McGrath should be brought to realize that the restoring of the Monarchy in Herzoslovakia is imperative to the peace of Europe.” “The part about the peace of Europe is all bosh,” said Virginia calmly, “but I’m all for Monarchies every time, especially for a picturesque people like the Herzoslovakians. So you’re running a King in the Herzoslovakian States, are you? Who is he?” George was reluctant to answer, but did not see his way to avoid the question. The interview was not going at all as he had planned. He had foreseen Virginia as a willing, docile tool, receiving his hints gratefully, and asking no awkward questions. This was far from being the case. She seemed determined to know all about it and this George, ever doubtful of female discretion, was determined at all costs to avoid. He had made a mistake. Virginia was not the woman for the part. She might, indeed, cause serious trouble. Her account of her interview with the blackmailer had caused him grave apprehension. A most undependable creature, with no idea of treating serious matters seriously. “Prince Michael Obolovitch,” he replied, as Virginia was obviously waiting for an answer to her question. “But please let that go no further.” “Don’t be absurd, George. There are all sort of hints in the papers already, and articles cracking up the Obolovitch dynasty and talking about the murdered Nicholas IV as though he were a cross between a Saint and a hero instead of a stupid little man besotted by a third-rate actress.” George winced. He was more than ever convinced that he had made a mistake in enlisting Virginia’s aid. He must stave her off quickly. “You are right, my dear Virginia,” he said hastily, as he rose to his feet to bid her farewell. “I should not have made the suggestion I did to you. But we are anxious for the Dominions to see eye to eye with us on this Herzoslovakian crisis, and McGrath has, I believe, influence in journalistic circles. As an ardent Monarchist, and with your knowledge of the country, I thought it a good plan for you to meet him.” “So that’s the explanation, is it?” “Yes, but I dare say you wouldn’t have cared for him.” Virginia looked at him for a second and then she laughed. “George,” she said, “you’re a rotten liar.” “Virginia!” “Rotten, absolutely rotten! If I had had your training, I could have managed a better one than that—one that had a chance of being believed. But I shall find out all about it, my poor George. Rest assured of that. The Mystery of Mr. McGrath. I shouldn’t wonder if I got a hint or two at Chimneys this week-end.” “At Chimneys? You are going to Chimneys?” George could not conceal his perturbation. He had hoped to reach Lord Caterham in time for the invitation to remain unissued. “Bundle rang up and asked me this morning.”