It was directed to Lieut. Samuel Pickering Aylesworth, who promptly replied: "Heartiest congratulations. Count on me for anything. Nothing could give me greater happiness than to stand up with you on the momentous occasion. It is great to know that you are not only still in the land of the living but that you are living in the land that I love best. My warmest felicitations to the future Lady Temple."
Now, to go back to the morning on which the first cablegram was received from Lord Fenlew. At precisely ten minutes past nine o'clock we take up the thread of this narrative once more and find Thomas Trotter standing in the lower hall of Mrs. Millidew's home, awaiting the return of a parlour-maid who had gone to inform her mistress that the chauffeur was downstairs and wanted to see her when it was convenient. The chauffeur did not fail to observe the anxious, concerned look in the maid's eyes, nor the glance of sympathy she sent over her shoulder as she made the turn at the top of the stairs.
Presently she came back. She looked positively distressed.
"My goodness, Tommie," she said, "I'd hate to be you."
He smiled, quite composedly. "Think I'd better beat it?" he inquired.
"She's in an awful state," said the parlour-maid, twisting the hem of her apron.
"I don't blame her," said Trotter coolly.
"What was you up to?" asked she, with some severity.
