“There’s something between you two,” said Kitty Sartorius sagaciously, in significant accents. “What is it?” She sat down, touched her picture hat, smoothed her white gown, and tapped her foot. “What is it, now? Mr. Thorold, I think _you_ had better tell me.” Thorold raised his eyebrows and obediently commenced the narration, standing with his back to the fire. “How perfectly splendid!” Kitty exclaimed. “I’m so glad you cornered Mr. Bowring. I met him one night and I thought he was horrid. And these are the notes? Well, of all the----!” Thorold proceeded with his story. “Oh, but you can’t do _that_, Eve!” said Kitty, suddenly serious. “You can’t go and split! It would mean all sorts of bother; your wretched newspaper would be sure to keep you hanging about in London, and we shouldn’t be able to start on our holiday to-morrow. Eve and I are starting on quite a long tour to-morrow, Mr. Thorold; we begin with Ostend.” “Indeed!” said Thorold. “I, too, am going in that direction soon. Perhaps we may meet.” “I hope so,” Kitty smiled, and then she looked at Eve Fincastle. “You really mustn’t do _that_, Eve,” she said. “I must, I must!” Miss Fincastle insisted, clenching her hands. “And she will,” said Kitty tragically, after considering her friend’s face. “She will, and our holiday’s ruined. I see it--I see it plainly. She’s in one of her stupid conscientious moods. She’s fearfully advanced and careless and unconventional in theory, Eve is; but when it comes to practice----! Mr. Thorold, you have just got everything into a dreadful knot. Why did you want those notes so very particularly?” “I don’t want them so very particularly.” “Well, anyhow, it’s a most peculiar predicament. Mr. Bowring doesn’t count, and this Consolidated thingummy isn’t any the worse off. Nobody suffers who oughtn’t to suffer. It’s your unlawful gain that’s wrong. Why not pitch the wretched notes in the fire?” Kitty laughed at her own playful humour. “Certainly,” said Thorold. And with a quick movement he put the fifty trifles in the grate, where they made a bluish yellow flame. Both the women screamed and sprang up. “_Mr._ Thorold!” “Mr. _Thorold_!” (“He’s adorable!” Kitty breathed.) “The incident, I venture to hope, is now closed,” said Thorold calmly, but with his dark eyes sparkling. “I must thank you both for a very enjoyable evening. Some day, perhaps, I may have an opportunity of further explaining my philosophy to you.” CHAPTER II. A COMEDY ON THE GOLD COAST.