would have been a stupid thing to say. They're not likely to forget a mug like mine."
"I am sorry to say, Mr. Chambers, that you and I will have to be content to leave the matter of our departure entirely to the discretion of a third party," said Eric, and blushed. A shy, diffident smile played about his lips as he turned his wistful eyes upon Lady Jane Thorne.
"Leave that to me, sir," said the man from Scotland Yard promptly and with decision, but with absolutely no understanding. "I shall be happy to attend to any little— Ow! Eh, what?"
M. Mirabeau's boot had come violently in contact with his ankle. By a singular coincidence, Mr. Bramble, at precisely the same instant, effected a sly but emphatic prod in the ribs.
"Ignoramus!" whispered the latter fiercely.
"Imbecile!" hissed the former, and then, noting the bewildered look in the eyes of Mr. Chambers, went on to say in his most suave manner: "Can't you see that you are standing in the presence of the Third Party?"
"Any fool could see that," said Mr. Chambers promptly, and bowed to Lady Jane. Later on he wanted to know what the deuce M. Mirabeau meant by kicking him on the shin.
"How soon can you be ready to start home, dear?" inquired Eric, ignoring the witnesses.
Jane's cheeks were rosy. Her blue eyes danced.
"It depends entirely on Mrs. Sparflight," said she.
"What has Mrs. Sparflight to do with it?"
"You dear silly, I can't go to Fenlew Hall with absolutely nothing to wear, can I?"
