Before she had reached her room she regretted her act of rudeness. It was too late now; she would not go back and apologise, even if she could bring herself to such an act. An alarmed Lizzy was waiting for her. “Do you know it is nearly twelve o’clock? I thought you were going to bed early?” she said. “I’ve been to Fleet Street, looking up a case for--for Mr. Shaddles, and look at my dress--a car ripped it.” Lizzy’s nose wrinkled. “If it’s true that you’ve been working overtime for that old skinflint--and it probably isn’t--you’ve got something the matter with your head,” she said, “and you ought to see a doctor. I’m disappointed with you.” “Why?” asked the girl, as she tossed her hat on to the bed and stooped to a further examination of her torn skirt. “Well, I thought you’d been out to see a Certain Person. Then, on the other hand, I couldn’t understand, if you were with him, how he could have sent you this.” On the table, standing amidst its loosened wrappings, was a beautiful round box, the satin cover of which was painted with a floral design. “It was a bit of cheek on my part, taking it out of the paper,” admitted Lizzy, “but I haven’t touched a single choc.” “Chocolates?” said Lois incredulously, and lifted the cover, displaying the most gorgeous selection of confectionery that had ever come her way. On the top was a small card with a line of writing: “From an Admirer.” She frowned. “From an Admirer,” nodded Lizzy. “No name? Now, I wonder who it can be?” Her smirk of amazement was too extravagant to leave any doubt in Lois’ mind. “Did he bring it?” she asked. “He? You mean Mike? Why, of course he brought it! At least, I suppose so. It was here when I came in. How many other admirers have you got, Lois?” The girl replaced the lid with a vicious jab. “I hate that man,” she said vehemently, “and if he doesn’t leave me in peace I shall complain to the police. It isn’t enough to find him sitting on the doorstep----” “Was he here?” gasped Lizzy. “Of course he was here! You knew he was here,” said Lois unjustly. “Lizzy, you’re helping and abetting him, and I wish you wouldn’t.” “Me?” said the indignant Lizzy. “Abetting? I like that! You take him out driving all the afternoon and talk about me ‘abetting’! Why, I haven’t seen the bird to speak to for a month!” “Where does he live?” demanded Lois. “How the blazes do I know?” stormed Lizzy. And then, more soberly: “Yes I do. He lives in Hiles Mansions.” “Then this goes back to Hiles Mansions to-morrow morning,” said Lois with determination. “And with it a polite note asking him to refrain from his attentions, which are getting a little objectionable.” Lizzy shrugged her thin shoulders. “I don’t know what you expect,” she said, in despair. “A good-looker, with a nice car, and a perfect gentleman.”