A dear good honest _bourgeoise_ creature. Isobel took to her at once. She felt the _milieu_ was not quite what she could have desired, but Moreno had done all he could, most probably out of his old friendship for Farquhar. Whatever discomforts she might have to endure, well--she had brought them on herself by embarking on this daring adventure. Mr Godwin came in presently, a large, heavy man, who greeted her with great gravity. She learned afterwards that he had been connected with the wine trade, and had retired from active business on a respectable competence. Moreno took his departure as soon as he could. He had several matters on hand, besides looking after a wandering maiden of a romantic turn of mind. Isobel stayed him at the door. "When am I going to see Guy?" she whispered. The young journalist looked at her kindly. He remembered his own too short-lived romance. That whisper had come straight from her heart. "Ah, that is for you," he said. "You know, you confessed you were a little doubtful about how he would look upon it. Will you ask Lady Mary to write him the news, or would you rather that I should?" Isobel interrupted him eagerly. "Oh, would you? Lady Mary is a darling, and devoted to us both. But if I write to her, and she has to write to Guy, it may be ages before we meet. And, besides," she added with the unconscious guile of a woman, "in certain things, men are so much better diplomatists than women. I am sure you could put everything from a reasonable point of view, present everything in quite a favourable light. I do not want him to think I am a masculine sort of person, an enlightened female who goes tearing about all over the world after a man she loves." Moreno was a very kind-hearted fellow. He could not resist that wistful look in the beautiful dark eyes. The girl was alone in the world. She had just lost her father; Guy was now her sheet-anchor. "I say, if you want to see him quickly, why not send a note round to the Embassy, just giving him your address, and saying simply, `I am here'?" But Isobel rather shrank from that. It seemed too bold, perhaps a little unmaidenly. She had always been educated in the belief that a woman should never make advances. Advances might be made through a third party, perhaps, if they were made with discretion. "But you could explain it all so much better than I could, Mr Moreno, how the whole thing was led up to by your letter to Lady Mary." Moreno looked at his watch. "I was going to leave Madrid in half an hour. Well, I can catch a train three hours later, it won't make much difference. I will be off at once to the Embassy, and catch Rossett there, if not, at his flat. You, of course, can see him at any time, to-day or to-morrow?" "A thousand thanks," replied Isobel, with her charming smile. "Yes, I shall not stir out much anyway. But I will keep in the two whole days." "Mrs Godwin, I warn you, will insist on showing you the sights of Madrid."