“Very likely. In these cases I believe it is not usual to put the gentleman’s real name in the lease.” “Then--then--Mr. Despencer, what is the real name?” “Oh, marchioness!” Despencer drew back and shook his head reproachfully. “Really, you will bore me if you go on. I couldn’t even guess the gentleman’s real name. It might be anything--Smith, or Jones, or President Kruger. It might be Hammond.” The marchioness shook her head with conviction. “It isn’t Hammond. I see you don’t understand the situation.” An ironical smile played for a moment on her companion’s face. “No, if it were only idle folly, I should try to shut my eyes to it. But I haven’t told you the worst. I hear that Mr. Hammond’s admiration for this person is perfectly honorable.” “That does sound bad!” Despencer returned, gravely. “But I warned you against the man. I told you he was an outsider.” “You are not to be so flippant,” said the marchioness, crossly. “Remember, you are talking to a mother whose child’s happiness is at stake, and tell me what I am to do. You see, the poor man evidently believes that this girl is perfectly proper.” “Oh, he won’t believe _that_ long, you may be quite sure.” “The question is, who will undertake to open his eyes? It will really be doing him a kindness.” “Yes; but people are so ungrateful for kindness,” objected the other. “Does this man Hammond know the marquis?” he asked, after a little hesitation. “I expect so. But it is quite useless to think of him. He mustn’t be brought into it.” Despencer smiled discreetly, as if he thought it might be rather difficult to keep the marquis out. “Now, Mr. Despencer, you are my only hope,” pursued the marchioness. “I appeal to you in the interests of society.” “You know I am your slave, marchioness. But it will be a difficult thing to manage. I almost think--” Despencer broke off, and gazed thoughtfully at his companion. “Well, what is it? What do you suggest?” “I fancy that the best thing you can do, if you wish to bring matters to a head, is to have Miss Yorke here.” “Mr. Despencer!” “Why not? You see, it isn’t as though she weren’t quite respectable. There may be rumors about her, but then there are rumors about everybody. If we paid attention to rumors, we should all have to shut ourselves up like hermits; except you, there is not a woman in London whom I could visit. As long as nothing is _known_ about her, you will be quite safe in having her here--of course, I mean professionally.” The marchioness looked a little relieved. “That doesn’t sound quite so bad,” she admitted. “I could have her at my concert, and let her sing something. I suppose she wouldn’t be altogether too frightfully improper?”