that would have appealed to such a man as Logotheti.  But there was Lady Maud, an acknowledged beauty in London, thoroughbred, aristocratic, not easily shocked perhaps, but easily disgusted, like most women of her class; and there was no doubt but that her husband had found her under extremely strange circumstances, in the act of receiving from Van Torp a large sum of money for which she altogether declined to account.  Van Torp had not denied that story either, so it was probably true.  Yet Logotheti, whom so many women thought irresistible, had felt instinctively that she was one of those who would smile serenely upon the most skilful and persistent besieger from the security of an impregnable fortress of virtue.  Logotheti did not naturally feel unqualified respect for many women, but since he had known Lady Maud it had never occurred to him that any one could take the smallest liberty with her.  On the other hand, though he was genuinely in love with Margaret and desired nothing so much as to marry her, he had never been in the least afraid of her, and he had deliberately attempted to carry her off against her will; and if she had looked upon his conduct then as anything more serious than a mad prank, she had certainly forgiven it very soon.

The only reason for his flying visit to Derbyshire had been his desire to keep Margaret’s name out of an impending scandal in which he foresaw that Mr. Van Torp and Lady Maud were to be the central figures, and he believed that he had done something to bring about that result, if he had started the millionaire on the right scent.  He judged Van Torp to be a good hater and a man of many resources, who would not now be satisfied till he had the anonymous writer of the letter and the article in his power.  Logotheti had no means of guessing who the culprit was, and did not care to know.

He reached town late in the afternoon, having covered something like three hundred miles since early morning.  About seven o’clock he stopped at Margaret’s door, in the hope of finding her at home and of being asked to dine alone with her, but as he got out of his hansom and sent it away he heard the door shut and he found himself face to face with Paul Griggs.

‘Miss Donne is out,’ said the author, as they shook hands.  ’She’s been spending the day with the Creedmores, and when I rang she had just telephoned that she would not be back for dinner!’

‘What a bore!’ exclaimed Logotheti.

The two men walked slowly along the pavement together, and for some time neither spoke.  Logotheti had nothing to do, or believed so because he was disappointed in not finding Margaret in.  The elder man looked preoccupied, and the Greek was the first to speak.

‘I suppose you’ve seen that shameful article about Van Torp,’ he said.

’Yes.  Somebody sent me a marked copy of the paper.  Do you know whether Miss Donne has seen it?’

‘Yes.  She got a marked copy too.  So did I. What do you think of it?’