"She said that she had money," he murmured, as he read the note again.

"What the devil does she want, then, if she has all the money she needs! Perhaps some discarded mistress! Bah! The old man's heart is as hollow as a sentrybox, and, besides, he has not been in Europe for nearly twenty years.

Ah, I see! Perhaps a bit of blackmail--some early indiscretion! She did speak about the girl! Then I must be the silent partner of her future harvest! She probably needs a man's arm to reach the wary old Baronet in future.

My lady writes in no uncertain tone." He carefully folded the note and bestowed it safely with the spoil of the young patrician.

"Of course I must show up," he said as he betook himself to his tub whence he emerged shapely as an Adonis with the corded torso of an athlete.