What is the matter?"

    His sister was pulling a wry face. "I've just remembered that I have to go to a dance," she said. "That means that poor Mr. Mortimer will be left all alone in the house. I am awfully sorry."

    "Don't worry about me," declared Jack cheerfully. "I can amuse myself. I know t London rather well. I was here about four years ago. But apart from that, if you give me a pack of cards I can amuse myself by playing solitaire."

    There was a twisted little smile on Dennis Wollaston's face.

    "Pretty slow playing against yourself, isn't it?" he asked.

    "I get a lot of amusement out of it." said Jack. "I have rather a passion for cards."

    "Do they play high in Australia?" asked Dennis, interested.

    "Oh, pretty high," said the other carelessly. "Of course, the clubs don't allow you to lift the roof, but you can always get a little party, and in Melbourne—" He smiled suggestively, as if at a pleasant reminiscence.

    The young man hesitated.

    "Good night," he said. A little while later they heard the whine of his car as he drove away from the door.

    The girl looked at Jack.

    "Well?" she asked.

    "I think he'll be easy," said that confident young man.

    She was looking through the window into Park Lane. A car had drawn up at the door, and she turned to Jack.

    "This is my friend. Fanny Fleming," she said. "I will introduce you."

    "Not as Captain Bryce," he said quickly. "To everybody I meet here I must be Mr. Mortimer."

    She hesitated.

    "It doesn't matter about Fanny," she began.

    "It matters about everybody. You must help me if I am to help you. Miss Wollaston."

    So it was as "Mr. John Mortimer" that he was introduced to the slight, pretty woman of thirty who had come to take Grace Wollaston to a dance,

    "You're from Australia, are you?" she asked languidly. "That is the one place I never want to go. What are you going to do with yourself in London?"

    He shrugged.

    "Just fool around and spend money, I expect," he said. "I am going into the country next week, but I shall be most of the time in town."

    "You must get Dennis to show you round," she said with a half smile. "How did you like Dennis? I suppose you met him?"

    He nodded. "Yes. A very charming man."

    She smiled again.

    "How diplomatic!" she said, and at that moment Grace Wollaston came in.

    It was two o'clock before she returned, to find him playing patience on a little table in the drawing-room.

    "Aren't you in bed?" she asked in surprise.

    "No," he replied carelessly, as he gathered up the cards; "I'm waiting to see your brother."

    She shook her head.

    "He won't be in until four o'clock," she said, "and this is the earliest. Take my advice and go to bed, Captain Bryce. You can't do anything to-night."

    "If you don't mind," he said as he rose, "I think I'll stay on."

    She laughed.

    "Well, you're an obstinate man. Good night."

    At four o'clock that morning Mr. Dennis Wollaston came home, and, seeing a light in the drawing-room, he walked in—not, it must be confessed, in the best of humours.

    "What are you doing, Mr.