won't think me horrid, will you, but I had a half-holiday the other day, and now I must work and make up for it. That's only fair, isn't it?"
"Very well, me dear, I can't stay. I'll be off and get out of your way. Now don't forget. Make it up, kiss and be friends. That's my motto."
"It isn't a quarrel, Mr. Triggs; but it's no use trying to explain to anyone so sweet and nice as you. Anyhow, I have broken off the engagement, and Lord Peter is in no way to blame."
"Well, good-bye, me dear. I'll see you again soon," said Mr. Triggs, still nodding his head with genial conviction as to the rightness of his diagnosis. "And now I'll be trottin'. Don't forget," and with a final look over his shoulder and another nod of wisdom he floated out of the room, seeming to leave it cold and bare behind him.
"Well, I'm blowed!" he muttered as he walked away from Eaton Square. Arrived at the corner of Eaton Place, he stood still as if uncertain what direction to take. Seeing a crawling taxi he suddenly seemed inspired with an idea.
"Hi! Hi! Taxi!" he shouted, waving his umbrella. Having secured the taxi and given the man instructions to drive to the Quadrant, he hauled himself in and sat down with a sigh of satisfaction.
It was a few minutes to one as he asked for Lord Peter Bowen at the enquiry-office of the Quadrant. Two minutes later Peel descended in the lift to inform him that his Lordship had
