afternoon at tea, but I had determined to show him that I wasn't interested in his coming or not coming either way by not asking him what prevented him. And then at the very last moment, like an idiot, I blurted it out before I knew what I was saying. 'Why aren't you coming?' I asked. I always did hate parting like this in public. I get somehow right down caught up and whirled around, and invariably say the wrong thing.
'Oh,' he said, brightening up wonderfully, 'I hope to come out later, but a reason that I'm not at liberty to give yet prevents my coming just now.'
'A State secret, I suppose?' I said, feeling just mad with myself when I saw how pleased he was that I had asked him that question. I guess he thought I was sorry he wasn't coming, and, of course, I didn't want him to think that.
Another whistle, more confusion.
He leaned slightly towards me.
'Yes,' he said quietly; 'it is a kind of State secret.'
I looked up at him quickly. He was serious.
Now, I never pretend to have any control over the expression of my eyes. I always think it best to let them be perfectly natural. But sometimes they do say things for one that one would never say in words. Of course, that may be an advantage or a disadvantage, as the case may be. I suppose they had an interrogative sort of look just now. At any rate, I could see Lord Hendley hesitate a moment. Then he bent down (have I mentioned that
