Produced by Al Haines [Illustration: Cover art] [Frontispiece: Luncheon at 94 Grosvenor Square was an exceedingly simple meal. FRONTISPIECE. _See page 92_.] THE WICKED MARQUIS BY E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WILL GREFÉ MCCLELLAND & STEWART PUBLISHERS TORONTO _Copyright, 1919,_ BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY _All rights reserved_ LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Luncheon at Grosvenor Square was an exceedingly simple meal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ "Richard Vont was head-keeper at Mandeleys when I succeeded to the title and estates" "I expect we are all as bad, though," she went on rather gloomily, "even if we are not quite so blatant" "You're very hard, father," she said simply THE WICKED MARQUIS CHAPTER I Reginald Philip Graham Thursford, Baron Travers, Marquis of Mandeleys, issued, one May morning, from the gloomy precincts of the Law Courts without haste, yet with certain evidences of a definite desire to leave the place behind him. He crossed first the pavement and then the street, piloted here and there by his somewhat obsequious companion, and turned along the Strand, westwards. Then, in that democratic thoroughfare, for the first time since the calamity had happened, his lips were unlocked in somewhat singular fashion. "Well, I'm damned!" he exclaimed, with slow and significant emphasis. His companion glanced up furtively in his direction. The Marquis, as Marquises should be, was very tall and slim, with high well-shaped nose, very little flesh upon his face, a mouth of uncertain shape and eyes of uncertain colour. His companion, as solicitors to the aristocracy should be, was of a smaller, more rotund and insignificant shape. He had the healthy complexion, however, of the week-end golfer, and he affected a certain unlegal rakishness of attire, much in vogue amongst members of his profession having connections in high circles. In his heart he very much admired the ease and naturalness with which his patron, in the heart of professional London, strode along by his side in a well-worn tweed suit, a collar of somewhat ancient design, and a tie which had seen better days. "The judge's decision was, without doubt, calamitous," he confessed gloomily. The Marquis turned in at the Savoy courtyard with the air of an habitué. "I am in need of a brief rest and some refreshment," he said. "You will accompany me, if you please, Mr. Wadham."