CHAPTER X.
LOST IN LONDON 1.
Quest, notwithstanding the unusual nature of his surroundings, slept that night as only a tired and healthy man can.

He was awakened the next morning by the quiet movements of a man-servant who had brought back his clothes carefully brushed and pressed.

He sat up in bed and discovered a small china tea equipage by his side.
"What's this ?" he enquired.
"Your tea, sir." Quest drank half a cupful without protest.
"Your bath is ready at any time, sir." "I'm coming right along," Quest replied, jumping out of bed.
The man held up a dressing-gown and escorted him to an unexpectedly modern bathroom at the end of the corridor.

When Quest returned, his toilet articles were all laid out for him with prim precision; the window was wide open, the blinds drawn, and a soft breeze was stealing through into the room.

Below him, the park, looking more beautiful than ever in the morning sunshine, stretched away to a vista of distant meadowlands and cornfields, with here and there a little farm-house and outbuildings, gathered snugly together.