“Are you going, too, Mollie?” asked her guardian.

“No,” said Mollie; “I’m going to stay at home and entertain Sir Roger Trajenna.  He is coming to luncheon.”

“Seems to me, Cricket,” said Mr. Walraven, “Sir Roger Trajenna hangs after you like your shadow.  What does it mean?”

“It means—­making your charming ward Lady Trajenna; if he can, of course.”

“But he’s as old as the hills, Mollie.”

“Then I’ll be a fascinating young widow all the sooner.”

“Disgusting!” exclaimed Mrs. Carl Walraven.  “You are perfectly heartless, Mollie Dane!”

She swept from the room to dress for her shopping expedition.  It was almost twelve when she was fairly off, and then Mollie summoned her maid and gave her sundry directions with a very serious face.

“I am going to spend the morning in the blue room, Margaret,” she said; “and I expect four gentlemen to call—­Sir Roger Trajenna, Mr. Ingelow, Doctor Oleander, and Mr. Sardonyx.”

“Yes, miss,” said Margaret.

“Sir Roger you will show at once into the blue room,” pursued the young lady; “Mr. Ingelow into the library:  Doctor Oleander into the drawing-room, and Mr. Sardonyx into the breakfast-parlor.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, miss,” said Margaret.

“Very well, then; that will do.  I am going to the blue room now, and don’t you forget my directions, or I shall box your ears.”

Miss Dane sailed off.  Margaret looked after her with a queer face.

“She’d do it, too!  I wonder what all this means?  Some piece of mischief, I’ll be bound!”

The baronet arrived, prompt to the hour, and was ushered at once into the presence of his enchantress.  Fifteen minutes after came Dr. Oleander, shown by demure Margaret into the drawing-room; and scarcely was he seated when ting-a-ling! went the bell, and the door was opened to Mr. Hugh Ingelow.  Mr. Ingelow was left to compose himself in the library.  Then there was a pause, and then, last of all, arrived Mr. Sardonyx.

The blue room bell rang.  Margaret ran up and met her mistress at the door.

“Are they all down-stairs, Margaret?” in a whisper.

“Yes, miss.”

“Then show them up in the order they arrived.  I don’t want Sir Roger to know they’ve been kept waiting.”

Margaret obeyed.  In two minutes she opened the blue-room door, and announced Dr. Oleander.

The doctor advanced with an expectant smile; recoiled, a second later, at sight of the baronet, with a frown.

“Good-day, doctor,” said Miss Dane, politely.  “Happy to see you.  Lovely morning, is it not?”

The doctor dropped into a seat.  Hardly had he taken it, when—­“Mr. Ingelow!” exclaimed Margaret, opening the door.

Mr. Ingelow started, and stared at sight of the trio, where he had looked for but one.

Miss Dane greeted him with smiling cordiality, and there was nothing for it but to sink into a chair.