“But even with her you must be very careful.”

“Oh, yes; that’s a matter of course.”

“When I was declaring for the last time that she would find me a grateful friend, just at the word grateful, I would put down the four flyers on the table, smoothing them with my hand like that.”  Then Doodles acted the part, putting a great deal of emphasis on the word ‘grateful’ as he went through the smoothing ceremony with two or three sheets of club note paper.  “That’s your game, you may be sure.  If you put them into her hand she may feel herself obliged to pretend to be angry; but she can’t be angry simply because you put your money on her table.  Do you see that, old fellow?” Archie declared that he did see it very plainly.  “If she does not choose to undertake the job, she’ll merely have to tell you that you have left something behind you.”

“But there’s no fear of that, I suppose?”

“I can’t say.  Her hands may be full, you know, or she may think you don’t go high enough.”

“But I mean to tip her again, of course.”

“Again!  I should think so.  I suppose she must have about a couple of hundred before the end of next month if she’s to do any good.  After a bit you’ll be able to explain that she shall have a sum down when the marriage has come off.”

“She won’t take the money and do nothing; will she?”

“Oh, no; they never sell you like that.  It would spoil their own business if they were to play that game.  If you can make it worth her while, she’ll do the work for you.  But you must be careful; do remember that.”  Archie shook his head, almost in anger, and then went home for his night’s rest.

On the next morning he dressed himself in his best, and presented himself at the door in Mount Street, exactly as the clock struck twelve.  He had an idea that these people were very punctilious as to time.  Who could say but that the French ambassador might have an appointment with Madam Gordeloup at half-past one—­or perhaps some emissary from the Pope!  He had resolved that he would not take his left glove off his hand, and he had thrust the notes in under the palm of his glove, thinking he could get at them easier from there, should they be wanted in a moment, than he could do from his waistcoat pocket.  He knocked at the door, knowing that he trembled as he did so, and felt considerable relief when he found himself to be alone in the room to which he was shown.  He knew that men conversant with intrigues always go to work with their eyes open, and, therefore, at once he began to look about him.  Could he not put the money into some convenient hiding-place—­now at once?  There, in one corner, was the spot in which she would seat herself upon the sofa.  He saw plainly enough, as with the eye of a Talleyrand, the marks thereon of her constant sitting.  So he seized the moment to place a chair suitable for himself, and cleared a few inches on the table near to it, for the smoothing of the bank-notes—­feeling,