"Nor is he to be unjustly acccused of—of wrongdoing. We must see to that."
Mr. Cricklewick cleared his throat. "He can avoid all that sort of thing, Lady—er—Miss Emsdale, by simply announcing that he is Lord Temple, heir to one of the—"
"Oh, he wouldn't think of doing such a thing," said she quickly.
"People would fall over themselves trying to put laurels on his head," he urged. "And, unless I am greatly mistaken, the first to rush up would be the—er—the Smith-Parvises, headed by Stuyvesant."
"No one knows the Smith-Parvises better than you, Mr. Cricklewick," she said, and for some reason he turned quite pink.
"Mrs. Cricklewick and I have seen a great deal of them in the past few years," he said, almost apologetically.
"And that encourages me to repeat that no one knows them better than you," she said coolly.
"We are to dine with Mr. and Mrs. Smith-Parvis to-night," said Mr. Cricklewick.
"Splendid!" she cried, eagerly. "That works in very nicely with the plan I have in mind. You must manage in some way to remark—quite casually, of course,—that you are very much interested in the affairs of a young fellow-countryman,—omitting the name, if you please,—who has been dismissed from service as a chauffeur, and who has been threatened—"
"But my dear Miss Emsdale, I—"
"—threatened with all sorts of things by his late employer. You may also add that you have communi-
