greatly affronted by the heel of his new mistress, which he liked still less, then began to behave in a way which for some little time quite forbade any further discussion of the subject.
For the rest of the morning, however, it was never far from the minds of these ladies. Two or three times they caught sight in the distance of Jack and his charge. A striking-looking girl, but she didn't in the least know how to ride. And somehow from that fact Blanche and Marjorie seemed to draw spiritual consolation.
At twelve o'clock they left the Park. The policeman at the gate pulled himself together and regarded them respectfully. An elderly lady in a high-hung barouche of prehistoric design, drawn by a superb pair of horses and surmounted by a romantic-looking coachman and footman, called out to them in a remarkably strident voice as they passed her, "I am coming to luncheon."
"Bother!" said Marjorie to Blanche.
"Bother!" said Blanche to Marjorie.
They went along Park Lane, as far as Mount Street, turned up that bleak thoroughfare, took the second turning to the right, and finally entered the courtyard of the imposing residence known as Bridport House. Before its solemn portals they dismounted with the help of the smart groom. In the act of doing so they encountered a tall, rather distinguished-looking man, who was coming down the steps. He was about forty-two, clean-shaven, with sandy hair; and his clothes had an air of such extreme correctness as to suggest that they had been donned for a special occasion.
The departing visitor bowed elaborately to the two ladies, but each returned the greeting with an abbre-
