Lady Merivale, who looked upon Mr. Vermont as one of her ancestors would have regarded the Court jester, smiled indifferently.

“It all depends on the point of view,” she said.  “I have paid three hundred pounds for it.”

Mr. Vermont looked up with an air of innocent surprise; but a keen observer might have been tempted to regard it as one of satirical enjoyment.

“Three hundred pounds!  I daresay these gentlemen, good judges all, have declared it a bargain?” He motioned to the little group on the other side of Lord Merivale.

“Not at all,” returned his hostess.  “On the contrary, Mr. Leroy declares it an imposture.”

Vermont raised his eyebrows.

“Indeed,” he said.  “How did he detect the fraud?”

“By the one weak point,” said Colman.  “That dagger; Rubens never lived to see such a dagger as that, so could not possibly have painted it!”

Mr. Vermont smiled, an approving smile that seemed to mock the picture as if it were a living thing.

“Capital,” he said.  “The rogue who palmed this forgery on you was evidently not a student of the antique.  Poor fellow, how was he to guess who was to be his judge?  You will, of course, institute proceedings against him, or send the picture back?”

“Impossible,” said Lord Merivale, with a rueful smile; “I wrote the cheque last night; by this time it will have been cashed, and so the swindle is complete.”

“Dear! dear!” ejaculated Mr. Vermont, in tones of the deepest commiseration, though he smiled as he added:  “There’s only one thing to be said, my lord.  If that picture is clever enough to deceive such great experts, surely it has achieved its object.  It certainly looks old enough to satisfy the most exacting of second-hand furniture shops.”

He turned to Lady Merivale.

“Before I forget,” he said, “let me discharge the object of my visit.  Melba sings to-morrow at the Duke of Southville’s party.”

Her ladyship’s face lighted up with real gratitude.  Music was her one sincere passion; and, as she had been unable to hear that divine songstress during the season owing to various engagements, this news was welcome.

“Thank you,” she said warmly.  “How good of you to find out for me.  It was kept such a secret.  How did you discover it?”

“Ah!” said Mr. Vermont, raising his eyebrows.  “If I tell you that, it would be bad policy.  I may have discovered it so easily that my services as a solver of mysteries would sink to insignificance, or again I may have had to commit a crime; in either case, it is best to ’draw a veil of silence,’ shall we say; sufficient be it that Melba sings, and Lady Merivale deigns to listen.”

“Flatterer,” she said lightly, as he rose, hat in hand.  He glanced across at Adrien, who was talking to Lord Merivale.  “I am off on another mission,” he said, lowering his voice.  “I fancy my friend must be thinking of his honeymoon.”